Reformat, Part 1: Illusory Memories
by Shattered Rift
Summary: Adventure AU: News reports claim a gang war rocked Odaiba three years ago and left hundreds homeless. But not everyone remembers it that way. Which is real: what the entire world believes, or the blurry memories of eight teenage chosen children?
1. Chapter 1: Friendship

This is the first fanfic I've posted here, so I'm looking forward to reviews/critiques/criticisms/flames/etc. I'm not really sure this is Angst, but that seemed like the most appropriate genre.

This fanfic is set at the beginning of season two (or Adventure 02, if you prefer). Season one (Adventure 01) is considered canon to this fanfic, but the CD dramas aren't.

Given the discrepancies in the chosen children's ages between the original Japanese (which I don't have subbed episodes of) and the dub, I primarily followed the dub (using their American grade levels, and an Americanized school system due to my unfamiliarity with the Japanese), but I'm using the three years between seasons that the original Japanese stated. I'm assuming a high school of 9th through 12th graders (Freshmen through Seniors) with the main group being sophomore age (Joe probably being a senior, though I'm not sure whether this is a misinterpretation on my part or not). Hikari and Takeru are seventh graders in a middle school that assumes 6th through 8th grade.

It should also be clear by this point that I'm using the Japanese names or slight variations (I understand that Jyou has a different pronunciation than Jo would, but I'm going with the English Joe in his case). Wikipedia, or the first episode of season one, can help anyone who's confused.

There's also one new character in this chapter.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 1: Friendship**

The school bell chimed three times. It served as a catalyst to incite a surge of movement and noise. Students rushed out of classrooms and descended on the cafeteria in a stampede. Some lunged to claim tables while others lagged behind to search for friends. A few stood on tiptoe in an attempt to see over the crowd and see what was on the menu. In moments the tables were filled, and underclassmen looked around in uncertainty for a place to sit.

In less than a minute the cafeteria as it had been was forgotten, and no one remembered that one table had been full the entire time.

"Coach is just asking to throw the season by letting a sophomore on varsity," one of the older students at that table complained. Stubble on his chin had formed after only a couple of days' neglect, but for younger students it would have taken a week to match. Across the table, the brown eyes of one such younger student lifted in a glare.

"Coach is asking to throw the season," the owner of those brown eyes echoed, "by letting seniors on the team by default." Defiance filled this student's voice, and he set a half-eaten roll back on his lunch tray. For now it was forgotten.

"Watch it, Yagami," the older student's eyes met Yagami's glare. "Whether you've got any talent or not, you don't deserve to be on the team." Three fries went into his mouth slowly while his eyes remained locked on Yagami's. Except for the noise of eating and the surrounding din of the cafeteria, the table was silent. Beside the older student, another lifted a hand to intervene.

"Taichi earned his place on the team," the intermediary spoke. He gave a stern gaze to the student he had interrupted before shifting it to Taichi Yagami. "And the seniors earned their place on the team, too." A brief pause was followed by a strong emphasis on his next words. "All of them."

The older student let his glare drop to his French-fries. Taichi's dropped as well, and his hand remembered the roll. He took a bite, and a few crumbs dropped down his dress shirt to land on his gray dress slacks. His green jacket, unbuttoned, completed his uniform. Every student at the table wore that same uniform, and all of them were male.

"Just as long as he doesn't throw our season the same way he threw JV's last year," the older student broke the silence. The edge was still fresh in his voice. A few nods of agreement followed his words, and this time the intermediary made no comment. Taichi's eyes lifted again, but there was no glare in them. Instead they settled into a blank stare aimed at his lunch tray. His head tilted forward slightly and his gelled hair sagged. That his hair had managed to stay out and upright at all, even with the gel, was a wonder. Every brunette spike was a mess aimed in a different direction: up or down or out.

Seconds passed by in silence, and after nearly a minute the student who had interjected before opened his mouth again, but other voices started conversation before he spoke. Meaningless conversation replaced silence, ultimately returning to the subject of their team, but this time they focused on the upcoming soccer season. Taichi was oblivious to the conversation, and his trance was not broken by it, but by a tapping on his shoulder.

"Taichi, could I have a minute?" His brown eyes turned and lifted to meet the hazel eyes of the girl that had asked the question. Her face was soft and outlined by brown hair that ended in a flip just above her shoulders. Others at the table had noticed her, but their attention remained on their discussion.

"Sure, Sora," Taichi answered, pushing back his chair to stand. Green uniforms surrounded the two on every side, and following Sora through the crowd required watching her head rather than her body. She wore the same uniform as every other female student. Both blouse and pleated skirt were the same green as Taichi's jacket, and the only other marks of color were at the collar and sleeves. Her collar was white, covering part of the blue neckerchief beneath it, and each sleeve had a white ring at the cuff. The two finished weaving through the crowd, and Sora stopped a few steps away from the doors at the end of the cafeteria.

"What is it, Sora?" Taichi asked when Sora didn't say anything. Her eyes were looking past him to a blonde male at a table halfway across the cafeteria. Several students were grouped around him. Some were seated, but several were standing even though there was still room at the table for at least one more. Only one of the standing students was male, and he had dark black hair. Sora's attention returned to Taichi, and her eyes narrowed to meet his.

"Mimi's moving back to Odaiba," she said simply. "As in Mimi from summer camp three years ago." Her second statement was quieter than the first, and her eyes made a quick sweep around the two as she said it. There was no emotion in her voice except a slight wavering to give away that her tone was guarded.

"Mimi?" Taichi breathed, struggling for words. "Mimi," he repeated. "She moved just a few weeks after summer camp ended." Almost beneath his breath he added, "and everything else." An intense look filled his eyes as he asked, "How much does she remember?"

Sora shook her head. "I don't know," she admitted. "I didn't have the chance to ask until just now when lunch started and I was able to get to a computer. I'm not even sure my reply got through: the Internet's still acting up." Her gaze dropped from Taichi and settled somewhere more distant than spot on the floor where her eyes focused. "I knew Hikari would want to hear the news as soon as possible, and you'll see her before I would have a chance to call." Her eyes lifted again as she smiled reassuringly. Taichi smiled as Sora did.

"I just wish there was a way to get the group back together," he replied, his smile fading as he spoke. Taichi turned, and his eyes scanned the cafeteria in the same direction Sora had been looking before she gave him the news. His eyes settled on that same boy hers had.

"That was part of the reason I pulled you aside now instead of before practice," Sora told him, and Taichi's gaze shifted back to her. She bit her lip. "I was hoping for a favor."

"You know you just have to ask, Sora," Taichi's voice was soft but hesitant, and reluctance tugged at his expression. Even though he was slouching his back was stiff. "What is it?"

"Tennis practice is after school, and I have plans tonight, so I don't think I'll be able to call Yamato and tell him," she explained, each word coming more quickly than the last. "The only time that leaves is now, but if he decides he doesn't want to talk to me then there's no way his fangirls will let me stick around long enough to tell him." She shot a weak glare in the direction of the blonde's table, and then her eyes returned to Taichi's. "But even if he won't talk to you, he at least has to hear what you say."

"You couldn't have just asked me out to a movie?" Taichi grated, but nodded, eyes turning to Yamato's table. The black haired student still stood next to him, and the crowd had added one more girl, if not two. "Who's the dark haired kid he's talking to?"

Sora's eyes narrowed towards the table. "I think that's Ishimura," she answered after a moment. "Koushiro became friends with him the school year after that summer camp, but I don't know whether they're still friends or not. I don't have any idea why he's talking to Yamato, though." Taichi nodded again, only partly hearing her answer, and started across the cafeteria.

Older students ignored Taichi as just as another underclassman, but fellow sophomores nodded or waved. Smaller freshmen darted as he passed by, intimidated at the sight of any student taller than them. One freshman girl stared as he walked by her. All of them went unnoticed by Taichi, however, and his gaze remained intent on Yamato.

Ishimura began walking away while Taichi was still a couple of tables' distance, apparently having finished his conversation with Yamato. Three other male students were seated at the table as well as two girls. The boys were given more room than they needed, and the two girls seemed excited to have gotten seats at all. Several others were forced to stand to be included in the group. One of the boys was talking, but his words dwindled down as Taichi approached Yamato.

"Yagami," Yamato nodded, but quickly added, "I'm a bit busy right now." He spoke dismissively, making no effort to hide his annoyance. Unlike Taichi, his jacket was buttoned, and his overall appearance was cleaner to the point that it had an almost professional look to it. His blonde hair ended in downward spikes that somehow passed as inconspicuous. Cold blue eyes met Taichi's brown.

"Mimi's moving back from America, Ishida," Taichi cut to the point, hands settling in his jacket pockets. "Remember her from summer camp three years ago?" The question had no apparent affect on Yamato Ishida, and his blue eyes simply stared.

"Is she hot?" asked one of the boys from the table. Beside him, one of the girls gave a soft glare that the boy was oblivious to. The question hung in the air for a moment before Yamato answered.

"She was back then." He shrugged before responding to Taichi. "If she's not anymore, then you're wasting my time." Annoyance had left his voice and been replaced by forcefulness. Neither blinked. Silence filled the table, but the rest of the cafeteria was as noisy as it had been the entire time.

"You can see for yourself when the old group gets together," Taichi replied, voice becoming harder to match Yamato's. "As soon as everyone's free-"

"I'll see her before that, or I won't waste my time," Yamato cut Taichi off, and turned back towards the others at his table. "You're doing enough of that right now, Yagami. My band has practice every night this week, and now is the only time we have to relax." He gestured to the other boys at the table.

"You're not some rock star, Yamato!" Taichi nearly shouted, pulling Yamato around by the shoulder to face him again, "You're not all that." The hand moved from its grip on Yamato's shoulder to his collar. "You know how much it means to Hikari that the whole group could get back together again."

Yamato tilted his head in consideration. For a moment he seemed to think about it. Then he snorted and smirked. "Maybe in two years when she's a freshman, if I see her at a party and she's worth looking at, I'll-"

His next words were lost as his head twisted sideways. Taichi's fist hung in the air where Yamato's chin had been a second before. "Be a jerk all you want, but don't insult my sister!" This time Taichi was shouting. Yamato worked his jaw before turning a glare on Taichi. Wide-eyes filled the rest of the table, and the closer two of the three boys were on their feet. Both stood ready to intervene, but for the moment neither moved.

"My point was that I don't care how much it means to your middle school age sister," Yamato spoke deliberately, eyes intent on Taichi. He pushed Taichi's hand off of his collar, and Taichi took a step back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd rather hang out with my friends than waste time reminiscing on old memories."

"Fine," Taichi's voice was calm, but only barely. His eyes left Yamato to sweep over the rest of the table. All of the girls gave him the same glare, and both of the boys that had stood up were watching him. He took another step back and turned to leave. Once he did, Yamato's attention returned to his table, to those he called his friends, and he started up a fresh conversation as though there had been no interruption.

Watching from across the cafeteria, Sora sighed.


	2. Chapter 2: Knowledge

Firstly, I'd like to thank my first three reviewers (though one of them didn't exactly make sense, but still). Secondly, fall quarter started on Monday and I'm getting used to my school schedule. I'd like to average a chapter each week, but we'll see how it goes. If I'm lucky, I'll also find one of the slower days of the week to post each chapter.

I managed to cameo season two (Adventure 02) in this chapter, which was sooner than expected. Things here should also help to bridge the gap between Adventure 01 and this fanfic: if anyone feels it failed to do that, well, that's what reviews are for.

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**Chapter 2: Knowledge**

The whirring of a toilet that couldn't flush properly echoed faintly in the barren hallways of the school. Each of these hallways had at least one poster welcoming the sixth graders to their junior high experience, but the warnings scrawled on a few of them showed that not every student was enthusiastic about the newcomers. Sunlight lit the posters, and its glare betrayed the cheap quality of the paper. A clock on the wall showed the time: three-twenty. School was out, and no one was around. Or almost no one.

A male in a green jacket and gray dress slacks walked briskly down the empty hallway. His auburn hair was cut fairly short and messily stuck out in every direction but up, except at the cowlick. Dark brown eyes blinked as a female student turned to appear at the other end of the hall, headed towards the male. She missed a step, almost tripping before catching herself in a dead stop. Behind large round glasses, her brown eyes gave a similar blink. A few strands of lavender hair slipped from her blue bandana into her face. The color made the boy blink again before he realized that the hair must have been dyed.

"Koushiro Izumi?" she asked softly, suddenly dashing over to him for a closer inspection. She was only a few inches shorter than him, and tall for a middle school student. Lavender hair ended at the middle of her back, nearly going to the bottom of the short jacket she wore. The jacket was light pink with short sleeves; simply a layer over the long-sleeved, dark red dress she wore. Under the dress were slate gray capris, only visible for a few inches and ending just below her knees. "It is you!"

"I'm sorry, but do I know-" Koushiro began, only to be cut off abruptly. The girl shook her head and broke in.

"No, you don't know me," her cheeks flushed, "But I know you." The blush deepened and she grinned. "I mean, you're famous for being the only sixth grader to ever be in charge of Computer Club, and a few of the teachers still talk about you." She stopped to catch her breath, but quickly went on. "There are still a few pictures of you hanging around, too. That's how I recognized you. It's an honor to finally meet you." Her blush had faded, and she thrust out her hand. "I'm Miyako Inoue."

"I'm," Koushiro's words hesitated as he took her hand. "I mean, you already know that. It's nice to meet you, Miyako." Even though the handshake was finished, Miyako was still holding on. When she realized, she jerked her hand away.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be a," her hand went up and her fingers counted for her, "sophomore in high school?" Koushiro finally got enough control of himself to speak clearly.

"When the Internet communications started having problems at the end of the summer, they called me in to help reroute the network here so the middle school would be running off a different provider than the high school," Koushiro explained, gesturing to the door only a few steps behind Miyako. "And of course ours went down on the first day of school, so I decided to check on things here and get some homework done. If I can, and if that's all right?"

"Of course you can," Miyako's face lit up and she looked ready to squeal. "Anything I can do to help Koushiro Izumi." She moved quickly towards the door, opening it for him. She spoke into the room, "Iori, you'll never guess who's here." Koushiro had a hand up as if to stop her, but it took him a moment to find the words.

"I appreciate the gesture, Miyako," Koushiro's cheeks were red with embarrassment, "But I'm no one special; just another computer geek. If Club's meeting on the first day, I'll just take a seat in the back." He stepped in through the door to find a short brunette boy whose hair defined the term bowl cut. The boy walked over slowly, not even tall enough to meet the top of the vibrant blue tie Koushiro wore, and bowed slightly before extending a hand.

"My name's Iori Hida," he said when Koushiro took the offered hand. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." Koushiro nodded and smiled, but Miyako spoke for him.

"This is the famous Koushiro Izumi," she proclaimed. It took effort for Koushiro to hold back his grimace. Her eyes spun from Iori to him. "And you don't need to sit in the back." She pursed her lips for a moment. "Unless you were planning on looking at naughty pictures?" Laughter followed her voice, but Koushiro's cheeks burned hotter and his mouth dropped open. Iori frowned and looked at the floor, but he spoke where Koushiro couldn't.

"You'll have to excuse her," Iori said. "She can get excited rather easily." Miyako was still laughing.

"Actually," Koushiro spoke up, looking away from the duo to the computers that lined the desks. The room was just another classroom, except that computers had been placed somewhat haphazardly on the desks. Numerous cables from the computers littered the tiled floor. "It's a personal project I'm working on. Just one of the get to know people assignments for the first day, but we're supposed to talk about our families." Miyako blinked, no longer laughing, and Iori's eyes looked at Koushiro uncertainly. "I was adopted," he explained. "I love my adopted parents and everything, but I wanted to take some time to research my real parents."

The two were still silent, and Miyako muttered an, "I didn't know," almost under her breath. Koushiro started walking towards the back of the room and stopped at the last row to take a seat at the first computer. He continued, "They died when I was too young to remember, so it's not a big deal exactly, but I'd rather be alone for a little while." Part of his voice seemed to crack. It wasn't that he was losing control, but something else. Miyako nodded to him, adverting her gaze almost immediately, and Iori set about working on other things. Koushiro's fingers pressed the power button on the computer.

Once it had booted, he opened a browser and typed a website address by memory. When the page loaded it showed a picture of a mangled car and was accompanied by a news article. The article even mentioned Koushiro, not by name, but as the baby that had lost his parents. It had been written fourteen years ago, and Koushiro's face showed no emotion as he read it. He quickly finished reading, but sat staring at the screen.

A quick glance at the computer's clock made Koushiro reach for his pocket. He pulled out a flash drive and inserted into the slot at the front of the computer. Several files appeared on the screen when he clicked the new icon on the desktop, and about half of the files had the phrase 'Digital World' in their titles. Before doing anything else, he silently mouthed the question, "Was it real, or did we just imagine everything?" Koushiro's eyes lifted to glance at Miyako and Iori, but both were avoiding looking at him. Dark brown eyes returned to the screen, and he opened three files almost simultaneously.

Two of the files were notes typed in a form of shorthand, whereas the third was a more detailed document. It was an account of events. At the header of each was a different name, except the first, which had no name at all. Each was fairly short, and only the first was more than half a page. Koushiro's name was at the first of the named entries, and his was the second longest. Taichi's followed, but was barely half the length of Koushiro's. Next was Sora's, and the next was under the name Joe, but those two were only as long as Taichi's. Lastly, longest of all with several lines more than Koushiro's own, was a section under the name Hikari. Each was written as an informal journal, with a few quotations for precise detail, but the style was identical throughout. Near the beginning was a detailed collaboration including parts from each of the others. Koushiro mouthed part of it to himself.

"We returned to the real world to find that seemingly no time had passed while we were in the Digital World. Mr. Fujiyama informed us that camp was closing early due to the snow." In parentheses, it mentioned that a call to him had been made about a year later, and that he said he could not remember why camp was closed early that year. "Mr. Fujiyama agreed to let us be dropped of at Highton View Terrace, where all eight of us had lived when we were younger." Another note in parentheses mentioned a Highton View Terrace incident during that time. A news article was referenced which had attributed property destruction to a gang war.

Koushiro's eyes narrowed at the line, and he clicked the Internet browser again. He retyped the site address, again by memory, and it turned up the article cited in the document. Then he switched to his flash drive and brought up his copy of that same article. His eyes scanned both, but it was clear that there were no alterations. Clicking again in the browser, he retyped another address to bring up a similar article from years later. This one was only three years old. Again his mouse went to the flash drive, and his copy of this article had not been altered either. He closed the copies, but the browser was open as Iori walked over.

"Miyako's worried she'll let something slip to offend you if she came over to tell you, but both of us need to be heading home," his eyes went to the monitor. The news article was visible, and Koushiro almost jumped. "I hope it's not too much trouble to ask you to lock the room when you're done?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine," Koushiro said almost too quickly. His hand gripped the mouse almost too hard, and it was no longer sitting on the mouse pad. Iori noticed.

"I know it's none of my business, but that article says that no one got hurt," Iori spoke slowly, waiting for Koushiro to cut him off. Silence sat between them for a moment, and he went on. "That article probably doesn't have anything to do with your parents. I know it's hard when your mind doesn't want to think about a bad part of your life, but I think it would help if you just did." His eyes went back to the screen to settle on the date of the article. "And thinking back to the summer of ninety-nine gives me chills. That was one strange summer."

Koushiro's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'strange summer'?" Iori shook his head.

"I was flying back home, here to Odaiba, with my parents one night, and then the plane suddenly lurched forward and started falling," Iori shivered, eyes going downcast to look away from Koushiro. "Something… wind currents, maybe, somehow strong enough to keep us in the air, kept us from crashing into the bay. Everyone walked away without a scratch."

"Do you remember what day that was, Iori?" Koushiro asked. His breath held in his throat, and his dark brown eyes were transfixed on the younger boy's green.

"No," Iori frowned, eyes lifting to meet Koushiro's. "Why do you ask?"

"For a second it sounded familiar," Koushiro answered. He stood up and extended his hand again, which Iori shook. "Yeah, I'll lock up for you two." Turning again, Koushiro's eyes took a moment to find Miyako. "Don't worry, Miyako, I won't take anything you say personally. I'll lock up for you."

"Thanks, Koushiro," she replied, smiling. "It was nice finally meeting you, and I hope you find out something new about your real parents." Koushiro smiled back, then sat back down as Iori and Miyako left the room. His hands went to the keyboard, text filling the search bar of the news site. An article turned up with a picture of a plane in the bay, and people being shuffled from it onto boats. Despite it being evening with a clear sky, the skyline in the picture was fuzzy. It almost appeared as if there were wavy but parallel lines.

"Picture quality's shot," Koushiro muttered, and began to read. "Flight 224 had an unknown instrument error which made it lose altitude and drop into Tokyo Bay. Expert flying brought the plane down safely, and no injuries were reported. Upon inspection, extreme malfunctions were found in the left wing, but these are not believed to have been the leading factor in bringing this plane down. Further inspection is currently underway." For a minute the room was silent except for the whir of the computer.

"Why did it seem so familiar?" he asked aloud, no longer needing to be cautious with silence. Even so, Koushiro's eyes still darted around the room, but the door was closed. His eyes returned to the screen, searching for a follow-up to the article, but found none. "Both Highton View Terrace incidents were gang wars that inexplicably involved explosives, and this plane landing safely was some act of God." Frowning, Koushiro slouched back into his chair. "And out of eight of us, only Hikari remembers very much, which doesn't make sense because she was the youngest."

Subconsciously, he added a copy of the article to his flash drive. A soft click of fingernails against a desk sounded as his hand slipped from the mouse. They began tapping as his eyes remained intent upon the monitor. His attention focused on the odd lines in the sky, but his expression remained the same. "I thought I had something, but I guess not," he admitted. Taking a deep breath, he hardened his face, and spoke to himself with remorse.

"No matter how much you need it to be real, Koushiro Izumi, you can't prove that the Digital World really exists."


	3. Chapter 3: Light

This chapter got delayed a bit longer than I had intended. Part of it was that I had difficulty writing it, and the other part was school. I'm not sure yet whether fall quarter is going to slow down my pace substantially, but it might be safe if everyone expects a two week period between chapters.

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**Chapter 3: Light**

Odaiba Middle School sat just short of the waterfront. Only street and a narrow strip of park separated it from Tokyo Bay. The Rainbow Bridge, plain and lit only by sunlight, was clearly visible past the trees on that strip of park.

Two students walked together on the Bay side of the street. The female, who had a camera hooked to a lanyard around her neck, led the male. Her brunette hair was long on top, but only enough to make it past her ears, and it stopped before her shoulders. A pink hairclip on the left side kept her bangs out of her face. Matching pink gloves went more than halfway up her arms. They were fingerless, and had a circular hole on the back of each hand. Her blouse was pink at the top, but the bottom half of white began just above where the gloves ended. She wore cream-colored shorts with a tan belt. A red backpack was slung over her shoulders.

The boy's backpack was an identical style but black in color. He was wearing a primarily yellow jacket, but the body was teal except at the sides. Blonde hair stuck out beneath a beige beanie. Like the girl he wore shorts, but his were a forest green and had no belt.

"It's sweet of you to walk me home, Takeru, but you don't have to," the girl spoke, and her amber eyes glanced to meet the boy's, Takeru's, blue. "I'm going to feel bad if I find out you were walking in the opposite direction from home just to spend time with me."

"I'm pretty sure this is the way I came," Takeru bit his lip in mock contemplation, glancing up and down the street while walking beside the girl. Finally his eyes returned to look at her sidelong and he grinned. "If you don't want to catch up with an old friend, I'll understand, Hikari." The girl, Hikari, shook her head.

"That's not it at all," she said. "It's good to have you in class with me, but I'm not sure that you'll agree a few months from now." He quirked a blonde eyebrow at the remark. After hesitating, he prodded for an answer.

"Are you and Daisuke Motomiya dating?" Takeru asked, which made Hikari stop and turn to face him. There was no hesitation before her answer.

"Daisuke's just a kid who's in Taichi's soccer league," she replied. Takeru's face softened slightly with the words. "I guess he's supposed to have as much talent as Taichi did at his age, but he's way too overconfident." She paused before finishing. "There's nothing like that going on between us." A silent breath escaped from Takeru's mouth. The two began walking again. Hikari grimaced and glanced towards the water, and Takeru's expression was somewhere between concern and relief.

"You might want to tell him that," he spoke after a brief silence. A few of the other middle school students were ahead or behind the two, as well as the occasional adult. The path in the park was a more popular choice than the sidewalk. No one was close enough to overhear them. "I think he's got the wrong idea." Hikari just shrugged.

"If we're going to catch up," she changed the subject, "there's something important I'd like to talk about." Takeru stared at her. She stopped again and turned to face him. "Takeru, how much do you remember about summer camp three years ago?"

"I," he hesitated, eyes dropping to the sidewalk. It was cracked in places, but passable to avoid needing work done. His eyes moved again, resting on the post of the street light at his side. They were avoiding traffic by walking along the waterfront, but Hikari had stopped at a red light even if coincidentally. She stepped in front of Takeru to break his hesitation. "I remember we got really into a game we were playing."

"What game was that?" Hikari asked. Amber eyes had become cold, and they locked on Takeru's blue. She bobbed forward on her feet, and her right hand had tightly clasped her left at her waist. The camera swung forward with the motion, lanyard not caught by either arm.

"Digimon," Takeru answered reluctantly, finally breaking from Hikari's gaze. "Or Digital World, maybe. Why do you ask?" The question was weak. Hikari broke the grip she had on her hand and stepped closer so she was right in front of Takeru.

"Are you sure it was a game?" she asked softly, breath catching just behind her words. She was shivering, but her voice had held firm. The sun was still in the sky, and the air should have been comfortable if not warm. His eyes lifted, but he took a step back.

"I'm not sure what it was," Takeru admitted, finally managing to meet Hikari's gaze again. "Why are you asking me?" Now her gaze dropped. She put her foot a step back but remained where she was.

"Takeru," Hikari whispered his name and swallowed before meeting his gaze again. Takeru's fear reflected in her eyes. "Two years ago, Koushiro asked us, all of us that he could, which was everyone except you, your brother Yamato Ishida, and Mimi Tachikawa, what we remembered about the Digital World. Most of us," she hesitated again, "myself included, were sure it wasn't a game or our imagination." Her gaze became forceful but weak. "I need to know what you remember."

"It must have been a game, Hikari," Takeru replied almost as softly, shaking his head. "How could something like that be real?"

"So you don't think Patamon was real?" The forcefulness of Hikari's gaze broke, having transferred to her words. Amber eyes were blurred by a liquid surface. "You don't think Gatomon was real?"

"Patamon was-" Takeru began, but Hikari cut him off.

"Patamon was your Digimon, who would evolve into an angel to protect you. Gatomon, my Digimon, evolved into an angel Digimon, too." The surface remained unbroken, but Hikari's balance was unsteady. Takeru was still shaking his head.

"Hikari, I'm sorry," he stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. She jolted at the touch. To their left, the light turned green and traffic proceeded to move. "I should just head home." The surface broke, and a tear finally escaped amber eyes.

Hikari's lips moved, "This is too important, Takeru," but her words had no sound. Then she was able to whisper, "This is too important." Takeru took a breath.

"It was too long ago," he looked away, seeing the ocean and its small but relentless waves as they rolled to the shore. "I… I remember asking my mom questions afterwards, but she told me to forget about it." He swallowed. "So I did." Hikari's eyes lifted, still filled with water. Sunlight reflected in them. "So I forgot about summer camp," Takeru repeated, "I forgot about the Digital World." His hand dropped from Hikari's shoulder. "But real or pretend, whichever it was, you've still got one thing wrong: Patamon was never able to evolve."

Hikari's face twisted in shock. "Of course Patamon was: all of our Digimon were able to evolve, and they did. Patamon evolved to Angemon. Gatomon evolved to Angewomon."

"Angel Man and Angel Woman?" Takeru asked, mouth turning to a grin. "If the other world was real, I doubt their names would have been that close to jokes." Hikari hesitated, eyes dropping to the sidewalk.

"Koushiro pointed out the same problem with a couple of other things," she admitted. The water was gone from her eyes, replaced with a slightly reddish tinge in the whites. "File Island and the Server continent." Takeru just stared. "They're computer references, I guess, but Koushiro's certain he couldn't have made up more than File Island."

"How can he be sure?" Takeru's voice was a blunt sword. The words had almost slipped out sharply. "Maybe he picked it up somewhere without realizing it, and maybe we weren't more creative than to think of superhero names."

"Just a second ago you said Patamon never evolved," Hikari reminded him. For a moment she locked a stare with him, and then she started walking again. "Can we keep moving? Mom will get worried if I'm late getting home." Takeru hesitated but fell back into step beside her.

"Patamon," Takeru spoke the name. Hikari took the moment to wipe her eyes. They were on a long stretch between streetlights, and traffic buzzed past them to the left, occasionally accompanied by the throbbing of subwoofers. Afternoon joggers, headphones strung from MP3 players, huffed by on the right. Other students were still ahead and behind them, but none had gotten close enough to overhear the discussion. "Patamon never evolved. I'm sure of it." Hikari just frowned. Another traffic light appeared ahead of them, and it wasn't until they reached it that she spoke.

"What do you remember about it?" She glanced sidelong at him and pressed the button to signal the crosswalk. "The Digital World." Across the street, away from the waterfront, the red hand of the streetlight barred their movement.

He avoided looking at her. "Now that you've mentioned it, I remember that we started at File Island, but I can't remember what it was like. I remember that nothing was what it should have been, but I can't think of any examples."

"Joe remembered phone booths," Hikari offered. Takeru's brows narrowed, but his eyes sharpened and he nodded.

"At the beach," Takeru added, glancing towards the waterfront again. His eyes watched the sand. "It's weird. Now that I'm trying to remember, I don't feel like I can. It's like I've forgotten everything." The light changed, and the red hand became a white person poised to walk. Hikari started walking again, but it took Takeru's eyes a moment to notice that it was safe to cross.

"That's how it is for all of us," Hikari nodded. Her frown deepened. "The more we try to remember, the less we're able to. Koushiro has a few pages of notes, everything we've been able to remember, and he told us to write down anything new that comes to mind. We need to write it down the second we think of it. When we don't, we forget anything we remembered. When we do, it's back and enforced in our memories even if the details are fuzzy." Hikari stepped up on the curb at the other side of the street, and Takeru had caught up and was a moment behind her. "Even though I remember her name, I don't remember what Gatomon looked like, except that she reminded me of my cat."

"And I don't remember what Patamon looked like, "Takeru echoed. A sigh slipped through his lips. "Are you really sure, Hikari? We were all at summer camp for a week, and that's enough time to have imagined the whole thing."

"Except that I wasn't there," Hikari turned her eyes to Takeru, and their eyes locked. "And camp didn't even last a day before being cancelled." Her frown broke into a smile for a moment. Hope filled her eyes.

"It was a week long camp, wasn't it?" Takeru asked, before following up, "and you had to have been there."

"This is how we know it was real, Takeru," she explained. A massive apartment complex loomed ahead of them. "There are things that don't add up any other way. My missing summer camp was just one of them. I can email everything to you, but there's something else I'd like to ask."

"I'll try to remember what I can, Hikari," Takeru nodded, but Hikari shook her head.

"I know you will," she smiled again, but the smile faded quickly. "Taichi and Sora have tried to talk to your brother about the Digital World, but he doesn't want to talk to them about it, let alone about anything else. Takeru, could you talk to him?"

He hesitated, blue eyes dropping away from amber. The two now stood at the base of the apartment complex. "Yamato and I aren't exactly close. We only see each other about once a year, and not always that often." His eyes lifted to meet hers again. "But I need to go see him now that I live on this side of town. And I'll ask him about the Digital World."

Hikari smiled again, but the happiness didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks for walking me home, Takeru." She turned, but Takeru stood where he was as Hikari walked away. A minute later he was still standing there, hands resting in his jacket pockets.

Blue eyes still stared in the direction Hikari had gone, and Takeru took a deep breath. He smiled as he turned away from the apartment complex.


	4. Chapter 4: Cooking

I've finally made the summary a bit catchier, so we'll see how that does to attract attention. I'm mildly considering changing it to, "Read and Review," just to see if that has any effect. Or maybe I should just leave the instruction here: if you read this, please a review/flame/etc. I dislike the term "constructive criticism," and would instead like to define it as, "Point out what you don't like, and state why you don't like it." Those of you who are enjoying it can simply follow what my lead reviewer has been doing, and point out what you like and why you like it.

I think you'll all pardon my rant since this chapter was finished a week earlier than expected. It should be noted that I've fixed the spelling of Koushirou's name from this point onward (and also found the evidence of the chosen children's grade levels: which means my timeline is even more skewed, but hopefully if you've read this far it means you're enjoying it anyway). This chapter also broke away from the former convention of titling each chapter with one of the Crests (otherwise this chapter would have been titled "Courage"). Feel free to leave opinions on that in the reviews as well.

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Chapter 4: Cooking

An amber glow outlined the curtains of the apartment. Outside, the sun was setting, but the scene went unnoticed with the curtains closed. Wooden flooring extended several centimeters from the curtains to a cream carpet. The living room was clean and organized almost to the point of austerity. Though there were two couches around the coffee table, the center of the room was otherwise empty. Only the shelves beside the television, containing books and a few other assorted items, gave any indication that the room was lived in. A picture on top of the smaller set of shelves, beside the television, showed a picture of four. Taichi and Hikari Yagami were at the center, perhaps three years younger, and the two at their sides could be assumed as their parents.

Behind the couch opposite of the curtains was a small dining table with four chairs, and just behind it was a divider from the kitchen. A cell phone, precariously balanced on the divider, was flipped open and the timer counted as seconds of the conversation passed. The timer had only just begun counting.

"Kido residence," answered a woman's voice. Taichi stood in the kitchen with the phone just out of reach. He placed a large pan onto the stove. A blue bandanna was tied around the crown of his head in an effort to keep his brunette hair, no longer held in place by the weakened gel, out of his face.

"This is Taichi Yagami," Taichi replied. "Is Jyou available?" He turned to his right, opening the freezer on top of the refrigerator, and pulled out a package of bacon. His fingers went to the side of the box and tore the perforation with ease.

"I'll ask him," she told Taichi. The plastic wrapping was giving him more trouble than the box had, and refused to tear by just his grip. Giving it a soft glare, he fumbled with his left hand into the drawers to the right of the sink. Finding scissors, he cut across the plastic.

"Taichi?" a male voice asked through the phone. Putting the scissors away, Taichi used his foot to open the wooden door beneath the sink and discarded the cut plastic into the trash. He began pulling apart the strips of bacon and set them onto the pan.

"Not too busy with school, Jyou?" Taichi teased. "I almost thought that since it was the first day they'd load you up." A momentary pause was followed by, "If you didn't volunteer first."

"Tonight's just the same syllabus forms and other paperwork that the rest of you have," Jyou answered light-heartedly. Taichi's hand spun the knob to turn on the stove, and he put the remaining bacon, still half-covered by what plastic remained, back into the freezer. He had begun rinsing his hands when Jyou continued. "It's probably a good thing you called me now rather than later."

"Does that mean I won't be able to reach you later?" Taichi asked. The dishtowel whipped around his hands as he dried them. Just as quickly he dropped it half into the sink before opening another drawer and procuring a spatula. Brown eyes fell onto the bacon for a moment before he turned back to the phone.

"Just stick calling on the weekends," Jyou told him.

"Speaking of the weekend, do you think you'll be able to make Yamato Ishida's concert?" Taichi's tone shifted to serious. He leaned against the divider, head tilting towards the phone.

"Have you finally patched things up with him?" Jyou asked, relief sounding in his first words but fading by the end. Taichi shook his head, though the motion went unseen.

"Well, I did take a swing at him during lunch today, if that counts," his mouth twisted into something resembling a grin, but it looked more like a grimace. "I've never seen him keep his cool like he did today: I don't think he even considered punching me back." Jyou began to say something, but Taichi kept going. "In related news, Mimi's moving back to Odaiba."

Silence followed, interrupted by the faint whirring of the stove heating, and a soft splatter of early grease.

"Mimi as in Mimi Tachikawa, or Mimi as in the one that embarrassed me near the end of middle school?" Jyou finally asked for clarification.

"I'm sure every Mimi has embarrassed you at some point," halfway serious sarcasm filled Taichi's voice. After a moment he specified. "Tachikawa. Sora got an email from her this morning. Things went so well at lunch with Ishida that she thought we might have better luck catching him after his concert Saturday night."

"Will Mimi be back by then?" Jyou started, quickly rambling on with questions. "Do you even think Ishida will have time to waste with us afterwards?" A momentary silence came with the faint sound of a deep breath from the other side of the line. "This sounds more like one of your half-baked plans than one of Sora's."

"It was hers," Taichi assured him, but didn't sound convinced. "Sora doesn't know when Mimi's arriving, but we need to get the whole group together again." This time Jyou's breath was louder, and a clear sigh.

"What if Mimi tells us it was a game?" Taichi frowned, reaching for a spatula his fingers could not grasp from his slouched position. He finally stood up and lifted it to poke the bacon. "How sure are we?"

"We're sure, Jyou." Taichi was still frowning. The bacon had browned somewhat, but was not ready to be flipped. "Hikari's sure. Koushiro's sure. Sora's told you she can feel it in her heart. And I'm sure." Each line came as a fact. Traces of exhaustion were the only sign of emotion in his voice.

"Unless Koushirou finally found some real evidence, or all of your memories suddenly came back, we have to be ready to accept the fact that it might not be real." Jyou almost sounded sad.

"Until we have proof that the Digital World isn't real, we keep going as if it is," Taichi told him. "Now's not the time to be doubting."

"Having faith is different from knowing something, Taichi," Jyou explained. "I know the sun's setting right now just as sure as I know it'll come up tomorrow. But I can't say the same about the Digital World. None of us can." His voice softened. "I'm just saying that we need to be ready in case it turns out that it really was just a game." There was a pause before he added, "You know I'm backing you up."

"I know, Jyou," Taichi's head fell forward. The frown was still there. "Try to make the concert if you can. Maybe Ishida will listen if enough of us are there."

"I will if I can," Jyou told him. "Even if I can't talk on the phone, keep me posted by email."

"Will do, Jyou," Taichi replied. He lifted the bacon again. It was browned on the bottom, and Taichi began flipping them over one by one. "See you Saturday, hopefully."

"See you Saturday," Jyou echoed. The timer on Taichi's cell phone stopped counting, and the call ended. Once every piece of bacon was flipped, Taichi reached back for the phone. He scrolled through his list of numbers, and clicked on the name Koushirou Izumi. Again he turned on the speakerphone setting, and set the phone down on the divider. Two rings followed before an answer came.

"Izumi residence," a male voice answered.

"This is Taichi Yagami," Taichi replied. "Is Koushirou there?"

"I'll hand him the phone," the male answered. The bacon had settled to a sizzle, and the popping of grease was becoming more frequent. Taichi pressed the spatula against the center, bringing the noise from frequent to constant. His eyes glanced over his left shoulder, to the door at the corner of the living room. Both kitchen and living room were drowned under the scent of bacon.

"Taichi, it's only the first day of school," Koushirou spoke. "I hope you're not already having trouble with this year's homework."

"Ha ha," Taichi muttered loudly. His hand went to the stack of dishes to the side of the sink, and he pulled out a large plate. Then his foot went to the door beneath the sink, and he tore a few paper towels from a roll. Two sheets went directly onto the plate. "Mimi moving back is a little more important than me failing the pop quiz I'll have in geometry tomorrow."

No words came from Koushirou. Taichi began catching the bacon with the spatula and dropping each piece onto the plate, onto the paper towels. Grease immediately seeped into them. He opened the refrigerator door and withdrew five eggs. Three were cracked open and put onto the pan.

"If this is a joke, Taichi-" Koushirou began, but Taichi cut him off.

"Sora got the email this morning." The pool of grease had settled at the front of the pan, and Taichi tipped the pan slightly back with one hand on the handle while using the other to work the spatula. "No official date for when, though. I didn't have any luck with Ishida at lunch, and Sora thinks we should try approaching him again after his concert on Saturday."

"We can't risk talking about the Digital World in front of anyone else," Koushirou told him. "Did Sora even think this plan through? Between Yamato's stage crew and groupies, we won't have a chance of approaching him, let alone keeping the conversation private."

"We might have a secret weapon." Taichi was still balancing the pan. Now he was faced with the trick of flipping the eggs over without spilling grease. His first few attempts failed. "Takeru is in Hikari's class. He barely remembered anything, but he's being better about it than Ishida." His eyes slipped back to his left, not reaching the door in the corner of the room. Soft pressure from the other side of that door guaranteed that it remained shut even though the lock was in working order. Hikari had her ear against the door. Taichi's last words came out unbidden. "I think talking to him took a lot out of her."

"If he didn't remember anything, it's not surprising," Koushirou replied. His tone was factual. "She remembers more than the rest of us do, and she's the most sensitive about the subject. She's been wanting to talk to him for so long that she was bound to have an emotional output of some sort, whether the conversation went well or poorly. Let's be glad it went well." Taichi's frown only deepened.

"She hasn't come out of her room since she got home," he explained. The pan was left to itself, grease again going the front, as he reached for a plate. All three eggs were scooped onto it, and he cracked the other two a moment later. "I got the story through the door, and not much of a story at that." Brown eyes dragged across the stove, seeing nothing. "Takeru wasn't sure at all, and to be honest, neither am I."

"If," Koushirou began, hesitation swelling in his voice almost to the point that each word was distinctly separate. "If it turns out the Digital World wasn't real at all, Hikari will take it the hardest."

"I know," Taichi replied, eyes still staring distantly. The spatula worked to keep the eggs separate, and the pan was balanced once more with his other hand. "Maybe it will be better if we never find out."

"At the rate I'm going that won't be a problem," Koushirou muttered bitterly. "It's been months since I've found a real lead. I doubt it would make a difference if the Internet wasn't down every other day."

"Keep trying, Koushirou." Taichi's reassurance was weak. He flipped the eggs over. "If it's real, there has to be proof somewhere." Nothing in his tone to suggest that he believed his own words. The scent of egg had muddled with the scent of bacon.

"I'll be there Saturday," Koushirou told him. "We'll find a way to get through to Yamato." Empathy echoed faintly in his voice at the end.

"Yeah, we will," Taichi's voice had strengthened, but was still weak. "See you there, Koushirou."

"See you there, Taichi," Koushirou echoed. The timer on the cell phone stopped counting once more. There was no longer the glow of sunset at the curtains. At the base of the door to Hikari's room the strip of light was broken. Taichi scooped each egg with the spatula and set them onto a third plate. In an instant his frown became a fragile smile.

"Hikari," he called towards the door, "dinner's ready."


	5. Chapter 5: Facades

According to Wikipedia, Takeru's mom is named Natsuko. If this is incorrect, please let me know. Likewise, if Yamato's band members were ever officially (of unofficially) given names, I'd appreciate learning those as well.

If I'm lucky, this chapter patched up a couple of plot holes. I'm a tad worried it might have just added new ones, though.

As always, I appreciate the reviews/criticisms/etc.

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**Chapter 5: Facades**

"Lock up when you leave, Yamato," a brown-haired male passed by Yamato Ishida as he walked out through the open metal track door. The male's guitar case was slung over his shoulder, and Yamato's rested on the floor beside him. Outside, the night was dark, lit by the ambience of Odaiba.

Most of the band's equipment was still set up inside the garage. Both drums and keyboard synthesizer had been left out unattended. Speakers were scattered, organized only in that they were in the same vicinity. A few were hooked into wiring from the synthesizer. Except for the equipment, the center of the garage was empty. Yamato stood leaning against the metal door, wearing his school uniform with the top button of his dress shirt undone, and Takeru was sitting on one of the cardboard boxes in the corner.

"Just because you got a preview doesn't mean I'm not expecting you to be there tomorrow night," Yamato told him. Two pairs of blue eyes glanced distantly at each other. "After all, it is our first official gig."

"Do I get to hang out with the lead singer afterwards, or will he be too busy fending off the ladies?" Takeru joked.

"Fending them off with a stick," Yamato replied with a grin, but it quickly faded and his voice lost the humor. "The fangirls aren't everything, though." The younger male's brows lifted, and after a moment Yamato glared at him. "Don't even go there: I prefer women."

"I'll take your word for it." Takeru sounded unconvinced, but he grinned. Goosebumps had formed on his legs, left open to the weather by wearing shorts. His hands worked and rubbed his knees, but he seemed unaware of the subconscious movement. "So if the fangirls aren't everything, what is?" Yamato shrugged. The glare was gone.

"The music?" he suggested, as if the question had been aimed the other way. His head turned to face his younger brother. "Maybe it's that rush of fear and adrenaline right before performing." Those words had been closer. "But if it's supposed to be the people, then I got the short end of the straw."

"So the fanboys are just as bad as the fangirls?" Takeru kept from laughing, and Yamato shook his head. The younger's expression became serious. "You're not just talking about the fans." Yamato's gaze had dropped before the first word was spoken. Takeru pushed himself off of the boxes he was sitting on and took a step towards his older brother.

"No, I'm not," Yamato admitted. Takeru waited, but Yamato didn't explain.

"We're family, Yamato. You can talk to me." The older male's reaction was slow, but his gaze finally shifted to the cement where Takeru stood.

"I don't even remember being a family," Yamato told him, but continued despite Takeru's wince. "But I'm probably closer to you, barely knowing you, than I am with the band."

"Then why are you in the band?" Again, silence. Yamato's eyes grasped for an answer in the floor.

"If you were good at something, and actually enjoyed it, but you weren't enjoying everything that went with it, what would you do?" The words were a statement. A specific answer was already expected.

"I'd try to make it better," Takeru replied. He took another step towards his older brother. "Aren't they your friends? Can't you patch things up with them?"

"It's not about patching things up," Yamato explained. "Tomorrow night's our first gig, our first real performance. But ever since we got together and people started to realize we didn't suck, that we were actually decent, the others let it go to their heads." Now Takeru was silent. Yamato actually sighed, but annoyance filled his voice. "None of us are really friends anymore, except to keep up appearances."

"Friends are supposed to be honest with each other-" Takeru began, but Yamato's voice drowned his younger brother's.

"You don't be honest when it's going to tear a group apart." Takeru cut back in.

"You be honest because you're friends, because you trust each other." Yamato shook his head slowly. Takeru's fists had clenched at his sides.

"Weren't you paying attention?" Only a hint of the annoyance still remained in Yamato's voice. "If I was honest with them, the band would fall apart. This is our only chance to make the Teenage Wolves into something." Takeru exhaled with an effort, and his fists unclenched.

"The longer you keep this to yourself, the less likely you are to recover from it once they find out," Takeru warned him.

"It won't get out," Yamato assured.

"How much time do you spend with them?" Takeru asked. "Practice doesn't require much talking, but what about the rest of the day? You're all in school together, right?"

"It's not that hard to fit in," Yamato told him, but the corners of his mouth twitched downwards. "They don't even realize how sarcastic I am when I'm around them." Now Takeru did frown.

"That's not healthy," he reminded him, taking another step closer so they stood next to each other. Takeru leaned up against the metal door beside his brother.

"But it keeps the band healthy." Takeru shook his head, but stared at the floor somewhere near the spot Yamato was focused on. The older brother's hair was in disarray from sweat, but still neat. The younger's protruded from the sides of a forest green beanie. Age and style were the only differences between them.

"I wish Dad could take that advice with Mom," Takeru whispered. Yamato's gaze shifted a fraction.

"You know that Natsuko and Dad don't see eye to eye," Yamato reminded him gently. Takeru frown deepened.

"Call her Mom, Yamato," he weakly insisted. The older brother remained expressionless, but spoke after a moment.

"How's she been?" The words were still soft, but the question was mechanical.

"Busy with work, but she manages," Takeru answered. His eyes went sideways to look at Yamato, whose eyes were still on the cement floor of the garage.

"That's good." His voice was emotionless. Slowly he met Takeru's sideways gaze. "What about you?"

"Not too bad," Takeru answered. "It turned out I had some old friends left on this side of Odaiba after all." He suddenly smiled, showing just enough teeth so it wasn't a grin. "Yes, Yamato, I made sure to advertise your concert. Two-thousand yen a ticket, right?" His older brother returned the grin, and Takeru feigned a pensive look. "I don't think they believed me when I said the lead singer was my older brother, though." His tone changed with his next words. "Why did Mom revert to her maiden name after the divorce?" Yamato's grin faded, and his gaze dropped.

"I don't know," he answered, shrugging a moment too late. Takeru's gaze dropped again. "I'm glad to hear you're doing your part in advertising." The words were only half felt.

"What's family for?" Takeru asked, but his smile was no longer felt. Yamato didn't answer. "How's Dad? When will he have time off work so I can see him?" This time Yamato's shrug was on cue.

"He buries himself in his work." Takeru nodded, and the fake smile faded.

"Yamato, you opened up a lot tonight," he pointed out.

"Guess I'm just tired," Yamato replied.

"Are you sure it's not that you're glad to have a little brother to talk to?" The question went unanswered, and Takeru tried another. "Can I ask a serious question and get an honest answer?" Older blue eyes glanced sidelong at him, and Yamato quirked a brow. "What do you remember about summer camp three years ago?"

The hum of the night resonated softly in the garage. Street lamps lit the outside world, and no one was around any of the other storage units beside the one the two brothers were inside. The two had plenty of light, both from the florescent lights on the ceiling and the incandescent street lamps outside. No one was around to overhear them, but neither stood in a position to see past the metal door they were leaning against. It didn't so much as bow under the pressure.

"I take it you meant Hikari Yagami when you mentioned old friends." Takeru was unfazed, and waited. "She's dangerous, Takeru. She thinks a game we played at summer camp that year was real, and her brother is catering to her fantasy. He took a swing at me at lunch the other day because of it."

"He punched you?" Takeru's mouth dropped open.

"If Yagami wants to fight me, he can do it where his stupidity won't get me in trouble," Yamato told him.

"You can't be this angry just because he punched you." Bouncing off of the door, Takeru stepped in front of Yamato. The older brother finally pushed himself off the door to stand.

"The papers, the news reports, all of it says that what happened three years ago was the result of a gang war," Yamato explained. "Dad was one of the dozens of reporters that covered the story. If the Fuji Television building hadn't been so badly destroyed, his name would be in some of those reports." Takeru's eyes went wide.

"Dad was on it?" The muttered question was lost beneath Yamato's words.

"Hikari Yagami is suffering from post-traumatic stress, just like dozens of other people did after the attacks," he continued. "Taichi Yagami probably doesn't believe the story himself, but he has too much loyalty to his sister than to listen to common sense and remember what really happened." After a pause he asked, "You don't really believe it was monsters, do you?" Takeru's gaze dropped.

"I talked to Mr. Fujiyama for myself this afternoon," he finally answered. "He teaches at the school, and he was our counselor at camp that year." His gaze lifted, gentle blue eyes meeting colder blue. "Mr. Fujiyama couldn't remember whether it was the first day or the third day, but we were sent home early that year. I don't know if I believe that the Digital World was real, but unless there was an anime on TV that we got everything from, I don't think we had enough time to make it all up."

"Takeru, if it was some kind of monsters that made the attacks on Odaiba, the news reports wouldn't mention gang wars," Yamato told him. "People wouldn't remember the destruction first-hand. Dad would know something about it." Takeru's eyes only lowered halfway this time.

"Do you remember it, Yamato?" Takeru asked. "Clearly? Do you remember that it was really gang wars and not something else?" Yamato grimaced.

"If you care about Hikari Yagami, get her mental help. Maybe Taichi Yagami needs it, too." Takeru's eyes glazed, frosting over to a fragile mirror of his brother's gaze. "No, I don't remember seeing anything personally. But I don't remember seeing monsters, either."

Takeru swallowed, and his gaze relaxed. This time neither broke the silence. They stood there, facing each other, looking at each other with their eyes, but their thoughts were distant. The boxes Takeru had been sitting on were still in the corner, and the speakers were still as scattered as they had been before the conversation. The world outside was still as empty and silent, but now the room was one less bubble of noise. Yamato finally picked up his guitar case and slung it over his shoulder.

"See you tomorrow night, Yamato," Takeru broke the silence. "Say hi to Dad for me." Yamato didn't so much as nod as his younger brother left. He followed, stopping only long enough to close the metal track door. The lock clicked automatically; there had been no need to be told to lock it. His blue eyes glanced towards the street only a dozen steps away, but Takeru was already out of sight.


	6. Chapter 6: Coincidence

This next chapter has been my favorite to write so far, so hopefully you'll all enjoy it. As always, reviews are appreciated.

I'm guessing no one remembers Club Poseidon? (Brownie points to anyone who does.) Hopefully some of you will appreciate the song the Teenage Wolves are singing in this chapter. Lastly, Ishimura is an original character, and he was in the first chapter (since I'm sure some of you have forgotten the black-haired guy that was speaking with Yamato).

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**Chapter 6: Coincidence**

The Rainbow Bridge, curving in the sky above, was all that lit the parking lot below. Cars filled the front half of the lot, and an intermittent flow of people casually sauntered into the warehouse. High on the front of the warehouse, an ancient and broken sign went unnoticed. Its text was illegible, and the night only served to obscure it further. This warehouse had once been Club Poseidon, and tonight it was reliving that former glory.

Another car stopped in the parking lot to let off a lone girl. Pink hair with red highlights emerged first, ending just below the girl's shoulders. A dozen star clips were assorted in that hair without any purpose beyond fashion. She wore a white miniskirt and a too-short tee that flaunted her stomach. It was blue at the top, separated by a line of white, and the bottom was red. At the center of the red was a yellow star. Her platform sandals clacked against the cement as she stepped out of the car. With a sigh she flipped her cell phone shut and tossed it back onto her seat.

"They said one of the service towers was out, right, Mom?" she asked back into the car. "If I'm lucky I'll meet up with Sora, but if you could swing back in two hours I'll check in with you then." The girl waved goodbye and shut the door. She had been dropped far enough away from the entrance that the conversation went unheard by anyone else, but she had been seen.

Dark brown eyes were transfixed on the girl. Light from inside the warehouse illuminated this tall figure and emphasized dark teal hair as conspicuous as the girl's pink. A finger went up to the boy's nose to push his glasses back up into place. His hands were in his jacket pockets, holding the dark blue blazer closed. The doorman stood only a meter to his right, saying something that the boy paid no attention to. The words ceased, and few seconds later a hand in front of the boy's face broke his stare.

"The party's inside, Jyou," Takeru told the boy with teal hair. Dark brown eyes met blue before glancing over the younger boy.

"Takeru?" Jyou asked, to which Takeru nodded. "Why haven't Ishida and his band started playing yet? Have you seen any of the others?"

"Some technical issues with the sound system or something," Takeru shrugged, "and I haven't been able to find any of them inside. There are just too many people in there. Assuming anyone's even here yet." Blue eyes scanned the parking lot, and Jyou turned to face the doorman.

"Do you have an estimate on how many people are inside?" he asked.

"Two hundred easy," the doorman guessed, glancing through the door. "Presale was three hundred, though. If the name Teenage Wolves didn't mean anything today, it'll mean something tomorrow. Or should I say tomorrow afternoon?" He grinned, but his eyes slowly slipped to Takeru, and the grin faded. The doorman gave him a long stare, but turned as the girl with pink hair approached. "Have a ticket?"

"I, uh," she hesitated, and her face paled. It took Takeru only a moment's pause before he nudged Jyou.

"Entry is two-thousand yen," the doorman told her, but Jyou spoke over him.

"I'll cover her," he blurted a little too quickly. For a moment amber eyes locked with dark brown. Sweat started to bead on Jyou's forehead.

"I appreciate the offer, but I already have a friend inside," the girl explained, flashing an embarrassed smile at Jyou before turning it to the doorman. "If I could just reach her-" The doorman's mouth opened to cut her off, but someone else spoke.

"Don't think of giving her a hard time," a black haired male interjected from the doorway. A dark gray vest overlaid a black, long-sleeved shirt. His green eyes were hard, but softened when his gaze fell on the girl. While he admired her with his eyes, bills passed from his hand to the doorman's.

"I was about to pay for her," Jyou told the two, but the doorman just shook his head. The girl started to say something again, but her words were lost as a rumble of bass announced a sound test inside.

"Tonight, Ishimura has precedence over everyone else," the doorman explained as Jyou glared at him. "Even over the band." Jyou's glare shifted as Ishimura offered a hand to the girl.

"I'm sorry for interrupting you before, but we'll find your friend much faster once we're inside," he apologized, but the girl didn't take his hand. Her gaze turned to Jyou, who stepped between them.

"You interrupted me, too," Jyou reminded Ishimura, but shrunk back as Ishimura stared him down.

"I had noticed, Jyou Kido" Ishimura whispered, and grinned. Jyou's weight shifted to his back foot. The girl had taken a full step back from the two and showed no sign that she had heard what was said. Inside, Yamato began introducing his band. "I'll have to insist, though."

"How do you know my name?" Jyou asked, words flattened by the noise from inside, but the motion of his lips and the surprise on his face carried the words for him.

"I make it a point of knowing who people are," Ishimura answered, reaching a hand forward and pushing Jyou to the side. "As I said, I'll have to insist."

The girl's eyes widened and followed Jyou. Takeru jumped in front of Ishimura. He had almost as much height over Takeru as Jyou did.

"I'm sorry we couldn't have met at a better time, Takeru Takaishi," Ishimura told him, but the words were lost beneath the drummer's rhythm. Ishimura gestured for Takeru to step aside. The doorman watched intently, but remained still. A small group flashed their tickets as they walked past him. Inside the warehouse, guitar chords were joined by Yamato's voice.

"Change into power." Jyou stepped between Takeru and Ishimura. "We've got the power." Takeru glanced up at Jyou, who gestured for him to step back. Hesitantly, Takeru did. Jyou fidgeted with his glasses, attempting to set them firmly in place. "We've got the strength within, and we always fight to win. Change into power. We've got the power. Together you and me: we'll win the victory."

As soon as Takeru was out of the way, Ishimura shoved Jyou backwards. He nearly tripped, and Ishimura rushed forward to give Jyou a second push that sent him over. Takeru stepped forward, but Ishimura stopped long enough to shake his head at the younger boy. Jyou pushed himself to a sitting position.

"Back off," Ishimura repeated to Jyou, emphasizing each syllable so his lips could be easily read. He turned back to the girl, holding his hands out with the palms up as if to excuse his behavior. Jyou shook his head, unnoticed by anyone else, and got back to his feet. He rushed forward and spun Ishimura around, grabbing him by the collar. Green eyes widened, and Jyou's fist clenched for a punch. In one fluid motion Ishimura broke Jyou's grip and pushed him. Jyou staggered back, and Ishimura rushed him again. The tackle toppled Jyou over for the second time.

A new group approached the door, but they stopped to watch the fight. Ishimura simply brushed his hands off, and Jyou got back to his feet. The taller boy's breathing was uneven, and his hands were simply held in front of him, unsteady and unclenched. Ishimura's mouth moved and he repeated the words, "Back off," for a third time. Dark brown eyes dropped for a moment, and his hands did as well.

Takeru jumped in front of Jyou and shot a glare at Ishimura. The older boy simply smirked and shook his head, and Jyou put a hand on Takeru's shoulder. Slowly, Takeru relaxed. Seeing that the fight was finished, the crowd worked their way past the doorman.

"No reason to fight when she's already eluded both of us, is there?" Ishimura shouted, taking deliberate steps towards the duo. Green eyes glanced sideways to make his point. Blue and dark brown followed. The girl was gone.

Ishimura held up a hand in a farewell gesture as he walked back into the warehouse. Jyou adjusted his glasses, and Takeru's eyes went to him for an explanation. The doorman stood still, staring at the two with an expression of indifference. He made a gesture inquiring whether they planned to enter.

"What was that about?" Takeru asked, shouting to be heard clearly. "Did he know her or something?"

"He knew me," Jyou mouthed, reply lost as a mutter. His voice rose so Takeru could hear his next words. "And he was too sober for someone looking to steal a woman." The two started walking towards the door. The doorman made no effort to stop them, and his attention focused on a new group that fell into line behind them.

On the inside, the warehouse was crammed with people. Strobe lights lit both the crowd and the Teenage Wolves. Drink and food were lined along one never-ending wall. On stage, Yamato was chanting, "We fight to win." Ishimura and the girl were nowhere to be seen.

"Everyone's too tall," Takeru shook his head and looked up to Jyou, whose eyes were scanning the crowd. The strobe lights had blurred colors together. Recognizing anyone from a distance was impossible.

"Either there's eight people here with their hair dyed pink, or the strobe lights are blinding me," Jyou sighed. "Not to mention she's as short as you are. It's hopeless. We'll never find her."

"You're giving up after showing that much backbone outside?" Takeru asked. A blush slowly spread on Jyou's face, and he fiddled with his glasses.

"You kind of forced me to," he told Takeru. "If you hadn't nudged me and jumped in front of that guy a few times, I might never have known I had that kind of motivation." Takeru just smiled.

"Next time try to do it without the prodding," Takeru encouraged him. "We've still got an hour until the next band goes on stage. Probably another half hour after that until we can try to talk to Yamato."

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to stay here for that long," Jyou admitted, frowning.

"They'll be packing up on the back side of the warehouse," Takeru told him. "If you can't make it everyone will understand." The frown became a grimace, but it faded with a reluctant nod. "You've got time now. See if you can find that girl, and I'll see if I can find the others." Dark brown eyes stared blankly into the crowd, but Takeru was gone when they finally spun to look where he had been standing. Jyou's eyes drifted back to the crowd, and he began pushing past people.


	7. Chapter 7: Interference

Finally, the Yamato confrontation approaches. As always, reviews and feedback are appreciated.

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**Chapter 7: Interference**

A dozen meters separated Club Poseidon from the water behind it. This side of the building was designed for loading and unloading, and three semis were parked there in preparation. The back doors of the club were down, however, and dulled the noise from inside. It was no longer the Teenage Wolves that were entertaining inside.

Moonlight shone down on Sora and Koushirou. Sora pushed down her yellow tank top in an effort to cover the skin that was open to the wind. Her tank top was just long enough to touch her jeans, but to keep it there she was almost constantly stretching it downward. Amidst her fidgeting, she cast occasional and worried looks towards both sides of the club. Koushirou, in his school uniform, was pacing along the side of one of the semis.

"Can't you just stand still? Your nervousness is going to rub off on me," Sora tried to keep a joking tone in her voice, but Koushirou stopped abruptly.

"Sora, we're all nervous," he told her. She frowned, and her gaze dropped away from Koushirou. "We have every reason to be. We didn't plan this out. Takeru might not be able to get Yamato away from his band. Neither of us saw Jyou. You invited Mimi here when we don't even know if she remembers anything. It's probably a good thing we didn't find her." Sora's eyes darted back to him.

"Don't say that," she pleaded. "I know I made a mistake pushing Taichi into this, but what were we supposed to do? If we hadn't decided to do something now, we might have been stuck waiting weeks to get Yamato alone."

"Even if Takeru gets us a chance to talk to him, what's to stop Yamato from just turning around and walking the other way?" Koushirou choked up once the words were out. Sora bit her lip as her gaze dropped from him for a second time, and it took a few moments for Koushirou to regain his composure. "This might be our only chance, and a mistake here means it's over."

"It can't be over," Sora whispered, "Yamato." Koushirou's eyes narrowed at her, but he hadn't heard the words. He sighed audibly.

"Sorry to keep you two waiting," Taichi shouted from the right-hand corner of the warehouse. The blue headband was still on his head, and a navy blue sweatshirt had replaced his school uniform. At his side, Hikari waved to greet the two, and she was wearing what she had worn to school three days prior.

"Sora, wasn't that what you were wearing three years ago, minus the helmet?" Hikari asked. Sora's mouth fell open partway, but Koushirou asked her question.

"You mean to the Digital World? You remember what she wore?" his eyes glimmered, but his expression was dumbstruck. Taichi didn't show the signs of surprise that the other two did, and his eyes stared off into the Tokyo Bay.

"Only just now when I saw her," Hikari answered, blushing softly. "You know I wouldn't have forgotten to tell you if I'd remembered sooner."

"My fashion sense hasn't really changed in the last few years," Sora replied. "There probably weren't more than a dozen things I could have been wearing. Are you sure this tank is the same color?"

"She remembered the helmet," Koushirou reminded Sora.

"Sora wore that helmet everywhere except school," Taichi muttered, eyes coming back around to look at the others. Koushirou's excitement faded, and Sora's head tilted forward in a nod.

"I know the color's right, or at least really close," Hikari spoke as if Taichi hadn't said anything. "But there's something different in the style. There was something around the edges, I think."

"Were you able to talk to Takeru?" Sora interrupted, looking past Hikari to Taichi. The younger girl's mouth clicked shut, and Taichi gaze darted to the corner he had come around moments before.

"I don't know how he'll ever convince Ishida to come back here," he replied, walking over to loading bay, and he jumped up to sit on the ledge. Hikari followed him, stopping to stand by the ledge rather than sit. All that could be seen from the floodlights on the back of the warehouse was dirt and grime. "I'm surprised no one's making out back here or anything."

"Let's hope that luck doesn't run out," Koushirou added. His back suddenly went rigid, and Sora's eyes were the last to dart to the corner. "They're here."

Takeru only took a few steps towards the group before realizing his brother had stopped moving behind him. Yamato was dressed in black, and his hair was no longer perfectly gelled in place. Takeru turned, gesturing and flashing a friendly smile, but Yamato had frozen where he stood. It took a moment before he finally took deliberate steps towards them.

"Takeru said he wanted to talk to me in private," Yamato announced, stopping right outside the circle the group formed. "I can't believe all five of you believe this nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Sora argued, and Takeru jumped in with, "Please, just listen for a few minutes, Yamato."

"I don't need to listen to know the truth," he countered, openly glaring at Takeru, who still stood at his side. They were split into two groups, with Takeru almost in the middle, but he was close enough to Yamato to be counted in his half. "Hikari Yagami batted her eyelashes at you and you're trying to impress her." His gaze shifted to Sora, who was the farthest to the right of the other four. "And you need to get it through you're head: we're not together, we never were, and we never will be." Koushirou was next. "You're just a geek who misses the attention he got at summer camp from people who aren't his friends anymore." Last were Taichi and Hikari, but Yamato's eyes had settled on Taichi. "Yagami, you should be mature enough to remember how bad things were after the attacks. Your sister is suffering from post-traumatic stress. You're only hurting her more by playing along with her fantasies. If you tell her, if you tell all of them that the Digital World isn't real, they'll stop pushing it." His voice almost softened with his next words. "Get your sister the help she needs."

Hikari silently stared at Yamato, and Taichi gave a firm glare. Koushirou said nothing, and had almost as blank an expression on his face as Hikari's. Sora's eyes tried to catch Yamato's, but his gaze didn't leave Taichi.

"My sister doesn't need help," Taichi told him, emphasizing each word. "And if she does, so does your brother."

"My brother just needs to learn to pick which women he's going to chase after." Yamato turned to leave, taking a step, but he stopped when he saw Ishimura standing at the corner of the warehouse. Yamato waited a moment before speaking. "You've come to collect on your end of the deal?"

"What's Ishimura doing here?" Sora whispered to Koushirou, who shrugged.

"You're the guy who tried to pick a fight with Jyou," Takeru interrupted. Ishimura's gaze shifted to him.

"Seeing as I'm planning to persuade your brother to listen to you and your friends, I'd suggest you let that lie for a little while." His gaze returned to Yamato. "Change of plans, if you don't mind? Instead of the original bargain, I want you to hear them out."

"You believe them?" Yamato's brows lifted as he chuckled. "Were you even living in Odaiba three years ago?"

"I wasn't at summer camp with the rest of you, but I was living here during the attacks." He gestured to his left, to the warehouse. "My father acquired this piece of real estate… in fact, he acquired most of his wealth as a contractor in the aftermath of the attacks."

"And you believe it was fictional monsters that caused trillions of yen in property damage?" Yamato held back his laugh this time, but the smile of amusement was plain on his face.

"I don't remember what it was," Ishimura admitted. His eyes went past Yamato to Koushirou. "But then, after summer ended, I met Koushirou Izumi." Ishimura slowly sauntered around Yamato along the waterside. "He was convinced that there was another explanation; convinced that the experiences he and seven of his friends had had were the true past." Ishimura grinned. "At first I thought it was a joke." He let the sentence hang, spreading his arms out with his palms open. No one but Yamato was smiling, and even his smile faded. "I was so impressed with him that I entertained the joke. Koushirou Izumi," his green eyes drifted back to Koushirou for a moment, "was the most intelligent human being I had ever met, but he wasted his time with a fantasy." The gaze returned to Yamato. "Koushirou and I fell apart, you understand. But I didn't forget about his story." Next his gaze shifted to Taichi and Sora. "Three days ago at lunch, no doubt after a discussion with Sora Takenouchi, Taichi Yagami approached Yamato Ishida and mentioned an old friend named Mimi Tachikawa, as well as a summer camp from three years ago."

"You remembered everything, even after this long," Koushirou exclaimed.

"I thought you were insane, Koushirou," Ishimura admitted. "But to realize that two others believed it, and possibly more…" He trailed off, and his breaths were coming more rapidly. "Maybe you weren't insane." Ishimura turned to face Yamato. "Even if you exclude Hikari Yagami and Sora Takenouchi, two completely rational people believe an impossible story. Three, if you include your brother. Four, if Jyou Kido, who was here earlier this evening, really believes it." A brief paused preceded his final words. "Hear them out, Yamato Ishida. I'm sure the price isn't too much higher than our original arrangement?"

Rather than answer, Yamato just snorted. After a few seconds Takeru smiled.

"Koushirou, you should start, since you know the facts," Takeru suggested. Koushirou nearly stepped back, but nodded.

"To be honest, we don't know very much," he admitted. "We know that the seven of us, everyone except for Hikari, went to summer camp. We asked Mr. Fujiyama two years ago how long summer camp lasted, and he told us we got sent home the first day. He couldn't remember why, but Jyou said he remembered that it had snowed. I checked the weather records, and even though I couldn't confirm the snow, the temperature was just below freezing: right in the middle of summer.

"Most of us didn't know each other when camp started, either. Taichi and Sora knew each other, Sora knew Jyou, and you and Takeru knew each other. We didn't have enough time to make up the Digital World together. Which means if it was pretend, only one of us could have made it up, and the others would have had to stick to the original story.

"What's more interesting is that when we were sent home from camp, we asked to be dropped off at Highton View Terrace. That might have given us more time to make a story up together, but that still clocks the total time in at only one day. There's something more important, though. According to the media, the gang war started in Highton View Terrace the same day we were there, that same afternoon. It can't be a coincidence that we were there also."

Koushirou seemed to run out of breath, and his eyes glanced around to the others. Yamato still stared, but his eyes were looking past everything. Ishimura was still grinning.

"That first day in the Digital World, you were the most concerned about everyone's safety," Sora took over for Koushirou. Yamato looked away from her while she spoke. "It might just have been that Takeru was so much smaller than the rest of us, but you and Jyou were the only two who were able to keep clear heads about everything. That first night, you were the one who showed us how to cook the fish over the fire without getting ourselves burnt."

"When we got to camp, I probably mentioned that I had had camping experience," Yamato interjected.

"I also remember how awkward you were in your big brother role towards Takeru," Sora added, but quieted down.

"And I think that's what made us start fighting," Taichi cut in. "We didn't know each other before camp, and I didn't have the reason not to get along with you that I do now." Sora shifted uncomfortably, but only Hikari and Ishimura seemed to notice. "But it's really weird. I've had this nagging feeling that we're supposed to be good friends."

"Don't you feel that, Yamato?" Sora asked gently. "Don't you feel that with all of us?" He remained silent, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

"The attacks weren't a gang war," Hikari told him. Ishimura's attention became even more focused. "Myotismon was at least ten stories tall, and it was the battle against him that leveled the city. Take a look at how many people were killed compared to how many buildings were destroyed. Only seventeen people were killed, and only twenty-three more were injured, even though more than a dozen apartment buildings were destroyed."

"We must have gotten the warning to evacuate the city," Yamato countered, but his voice had weakened. "Look, my dad was a reporter for Fuji Television, and he's told me more than once that people, gang members, were responsible for what happened."

"You've asked him more than once?" Takeru nearly smiled. "So you've doubted it, too."

"I…" Yamato's gaze slipped down to his shoes, which were just as black as the rest of his outfit. "I remember making a pact with Gabumon. We promised to be friends, and that we'd always be there for each other." He swallowed, almost choking on his words, but his voice betrayed nothing in his emotions. Ishimura almost gawked at him. "For something I made up, it stuck out so strongly in my memory."

"We didn't make it up, Yamato," Takeru assured him, stepping directly in front of his older brother. "Something's just stopping us from remembering the truth." Yamato met his brother's gaze, but slowly shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Takeru," he bit his lip before his eyes lifted to look at the others behind Takeru. "I'm sorry, but there's no way this could be real. However strong the memory I have is, and even with the scraps of evidence you have. If monsters really were responsible for the destruction, then someone else would remember: there would be some sort of real evidence."

"No one was ever charged for the crimes these gangs supposedly committed," Koushirou broke in. "Ask your dad to tell you what he knows. He'd be a better source than the public records, and if there's anyone who might have known about a cover-up, it would be the reporters that did the story."

"This is crazy," Yamato muttered. "You've almost got me believing in something impossible."

"We never said we didn't have our doubts," Taichi told him. "But we have enough of a reason to believe in this."

"And it wouldn't be right if we just ignored that," Sora added.

Yamato looked at them, and reluctantly nodded after a moment. Ishimura remained silent, forgotten, and quirked a brow. He had regained his composure. Sora smiled, and Taichi let out a breath he had been holding in. Hikari smiled almost as widely as Sora did. Koushirou just nodded, face beaming with satisfaction. Yamato's expression became serious again, and he caught Taichi's gaze.

"This doesn't mean things are different between us, though," Yamato told him. "I'll only come back to talk to you if I find out something. If I don't, I don't want any of you bothering me again without real proof."

"Yamato," Sora's voice had the pleading tone again, and her smile disappeared.

"I hope you find out something from your dad," Koushirou told Yamato.

"In our hearts, we know this is the truth," Hikari added. "And so do you."

Yamato gave no reply, but finally turned to leave. Takeru and Ishimura both followed at his sides, leaving the others where they were at the loading bay. In a few seconds the three had disappeared around the corner and were out of sight.


	8. Chapter 8: The Eighth

I know this is a week late, but I'm glad to have finished it at all. I've been struggling to find motivation for this fanfic for the past couple of chapters, and while I definitely want to see this through to the end, I'm not sure I'll make it there. I'm going to try to keep pushing until I finish, but I at least wanted to give the heads-up in case I do end up dropping it.

I'm not sure whether to take it as a good or bad sign that I received no reviews on the last chapter (no reviews from those of you here, anyway).

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**Chapter 8: The Eighth**

Shade almost made Ishimura blend into the darkened walls and concrete walkway on one of the higher floors of an apartment complex. He wasn't wearing the vest he had been wearing at the club, but he was wearing the same long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. Sunlight struck the walkway ahead of him, shifting to illuminate him as he walked into it and leaned against the railing. His gazed lingered out over Odaiba.

It was difficult to see very far in any direction. More apartment complexes and other skyscrapers obscured the view, but there were a few small cracks where Ishimura could see for a real distance. Through one sliver between buildings even the Rainbow Bridge and the Tokyo Bay could be seen. His gaze drifted to the streets below where small dots moved: people busy about their work. Cars and taxies, only colored blocks from this height, slid along the streets. No other details could be seen clearly.

Ishimura turned away from it, and his green eyes settled on a family name plaque beside one of the apartment doors. It was cracked in several places, and the wood was held together by glue. The name read Tachikawa, showing three family members: two parents and a daughter. He hesitated before stepping to the door and ringing the bell. For a few moments he waited.

Mimi opened the door slowly. The star hairclips from the night before were gone, but her hair was still perfectly in place. She was wearing a pink, button-up blouse and pink sweatpants that were too short, ending just below her knees.

"You're-" she began, tongue locking at the top of her teeth as she failed to remember the male's name.

"Ishimura," he finished for her, swinging his arm forward to offer his hand. "Uragiru Ishimura." Mimi's amber eyes narrowed at the name, and Ishimura quickly continued. "Please call me Ishimura."

"What parent would name their son Uragiru, if you don't mind my asking?" Mimi inquired, hesitantly reaching out and shaking his hand. Ishimura hesitated, teeth locking before they could grind, but he answered casually.

"My birth father left my mother after I was conceived," he explained, spreading his arms out innocently once the handshake was completed. "My mother was upset with him, and had me as a constant reminder. She vowed she'd never forgive him, and has a reminder every time my name is spoken." Pity filled Mimi's eyes, and Ishimura continued. "Please call me Ishimura. I mean no disrespect, nor do I mean to put a barrier between us, but I detest my first name that strongly." He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "But I didn't come to talk about myself, Mimi Tachikawa. I came to apologize."

"How do you know my name?" she asked. The door behind her was open, showing into the apartment. Other than an abundance of plant life the inside was plain. Most pots holding the plants were made of cheap plastic, while the others were cheap wood.

"You were looking for Sora Takenouchi last night, weren't you?" he spoke, and Mimi nodded in confirmation, her amber eyes softening in surprise. "I'm a friend of hers, and of Koushirou Izumi." For a moment she frowned.

"I don't think I know a Koushirou Izumi," she said. Ishimura stared at her, eyebrows lifting slightly, and his mouth hung open for a full second before he spoke.

"You and he were friends three years ago," Ishimura reminded her, but Mimi just shook her head.

"If we were, I don't remember him," she replied.

"Perhaps you remember Taichi Yagami? Yamato Ishida? Jyou Kido?" A pause followed each name, and Mimi shook her head in answer to each. "Then Sora didn't tell you why she invited you to the party last night?"

"She said she wanted to get together, and that it would be a chance to get to know people before school tomorrow," Mimi answered. Ishimura's silence prompted Mimi to ask, "Was there another reason?"

"I," Ishimura hesitated for a moment, green eyes dropping to glance down the side of the door, "don't think it's my place to tell you." Hesitantly, but a little too quickly, his eyes shot back up to meet hers. "Last night's discussion is something Sora should explain to you, not me."

"If you're sure," Mimi stated more than asked. "So you tracked me down just to apologize? For being drunk and acting like a jerk?"

"I wasn't drunk," he replied quickly, wincing slightly before admitting, "I recognized you, and assumed you were looking for Sora. I thought it would be faster if I took you inside. It was never my intention to be rude, and I'm sorry if I came across that way."

"Next time just be sure to let me know why you're doing it," Mimi replied with a smile. "But how did you recognize me?" Ishimura forced a grin and grit his teeth.

"Sora Takenouchi told me and a few others that you were moving back from America," he answered, giving a long but silent exhale. "I have a few connections at the international airport, and one of them was able to get me your description." Another pause followed. Mimi gave no response, and Ishimura finished, "I hope you don't take it the wrong way. I simply prefer not to be caught by surprise, and if you're going to be going to the same school as Sora Takenouchi and I, knowing who the new girl in some of my classes is might be useful."

"Useful?" she questioned, but let it drop with her next words. "After all the guys trying to paw me over last night, it'll be nice to recognize at least one face that hasn't tried yet." Ishimura forced a laugh.

"I might be rude, but I'm not that rude," he replied, and Mimi responded with a genuine laugh. "How was America?"

"It was so different from Japan," Mimi started. Her voice changed to a more casual tone, and her words came more quickly than before. "The first thing you notice is how many people aren't Asian, and how different they are from each other, too. But there's also a lot of hostility. They aren't as polite as Japanese people are. Not until nine-eleven, anyway." After that she bit her lip and stopped speaking. In a few moments she blinked at Ishimura as if she didn't recognize him, but her eyes quickly lit back up. "What about Odaiba? How have things been here? What's happened in the last three years?"

"We've been rebuilding from the attacks," Ishimura told her slowly, giving her a level stare. "The reconstruction on Fuji Television was only finished a couple of months ago, and it was probably the last thing left to be rebuilt. You came back just at the time when everything's finally back to the way it was."

"What do you mean by 'attacks?'" she asked open-mouthed. "Were there terrorist attacks here, too?" It took a few seconds for Ishimura to answer.

"No, nothing like that. Well, not exactly like that. I'm talking about the gang war that happened right before you left," he clarified.

"I," she hesitated, staring past Ishimura towards the skyscrapers that could be seen from where she stood, "don't remember any gang war."

"It happened during the summer of ninety-nine," he stated. Mimi's amber eyes narrowed, shifting back to Ishimura's green, but she shook her head.

"We moved right after the summer," she said softly. "But I don't remember anything happening before we left."

"Most of us don't remember it very clearly," Ishimura told her.

"I do remember that my dad was laid off around that time, and that's why we moved to America," Mimi admitted, "but not the reason why."

"Speaking of whys, why did you move back?" Ishimura inquired.

"We had family here," she swallowed. "Mom and I weren't able to support ourselves without Dad." She bit her lip again, slouching and letting her gaze drop from Ishimura. "He's dead."

"I'm sorry," Ishimura replied automatically, looking away from her at the same time she looked back up. "It wasn't my place to ask."

"No, it's not your fault," Mimi told him and swallowed again. "You didn't know, and I'm going to be asked that question by a dozen other people, so I might as well get used to saying it now." Sora froze a few steps away from the two.

"Mimi, did I hear you right?" she asked. Sora had stopped at the railing where Ishimura had looked out over the city. Today she was wearing a light red tank top rather than the yellow from the night before. This one was long enough to reach her jeans without her constant tugging. "Your dad is…" She didn't finish.

Mimi nodded, not answering vocally. Otherwise she kept her composure, eyes blinking only a little more frequently than was necessary. Ishimura took a step away from her, backing against the railing, and he gestured to Sora.

"I'll let you old friends have some time to catch up," he told them. "It was nice meeting you, Mimi Tachikawa. See you at school tomorrow."

"See you at school tomorrow, Ishimura," she replied, watching as Ishimura walked past Sora and gave her a curt hello. Sora echoed the greeting before walking over to Mimi and giving her a strong hug. Mimi returned the hug less tightly. "Sora, it was a few months ago. You don't need to act like it happened yesterday."

"The way you nearly broke down made it seem like yesterday," Sora replied, letting go. Her hands slid down to hold the other girl's. Mimi smiled weakly, and shook her head.

"If you think this is how I reacted when I found out, then you don't remember me very well." There was the slightest tone of chiding in her voice.

"Half of us don't remember anything," Sora murmured, and Mimi stared at her.

"What did you say?" she asked. Sora glanced away and hesitated before speaking.

"What did Ishimura talk to you about?" she asked, temporarily ignoring the question.

"He did mention that you had something else in mind besides just hanging out, if that's what you mean," Mimi replied cheerfully. The only emotion in her voice was a hint of curiosity. "Something about a discussion. It sounded serious." Sora inhaled deeply.

"Mimi, I need to ask you something, and I need an honest answer," Sora told Mimi, letting go of her hands and giving her a level stare. Ishimura had stopped just around the corner. Next to him the stairs went in both directions from the floor they were on. His head was tilted towards the two, with his ear positioned to eavesdrop. Neither of the two would have seen them even if they glanced in his direction. "Do you remember the Digital World from summer camp three years ago?"

"Digital what?" Mimi blinked, eyes narrowing and then widening as she exclaimed, "I don't think I've ever been to a camp."

"Mimi," Sora spoke firmly, "the seven of us went to summer camp that year right before you moved. Me, Yamato Ishida, Jyou Kido, Taichi Yagami, Koushirou Izumi, Takeru Takaishi, and you."

"I think a few of those were the same names Ishimura mentioned," Mimi commented. "But I don't recognize any of them."

"Yamato Ishida is the singer lead guitarist of the Teenage Wolves, the group who I wanted you to see last night," Sora explained. "All of the others were at the concert, too."

"About the concert," Mimi's words dragged slightly, "There were too many people and I never spotted you."

"Are you saying you were there?" Sora nearly shouted. "I can't believe I missed you."

"I would have tried calling, but the cell coverage in this city is terrible," Mimi grumbled. "I don't think I've been able to make a single call since I got here."

"That's not the important part," Sora explained, trying to focus. Her eyes had locked on Mimi's. "You really don't remember the Digital World? You don't remember Palmon?"

"Palmon," Mimi repeated, pursing her lips in thought. "Come to think of it, that name does sound kind of familiar. If only I could place it."

"You remember less than the rest of us," Sora realized. "Even Yamato remembered Gabumon, but Palmon only rings a bell for you." Mimi was staring at her now. "We went to summer camp and got sucked into the Digital World, where we landed on File Island in the middle of the Digimons' war. We defeated them there, but more had come here, to the real world, and we had to defeat them, too."

"Was it a video game?" Mimi asked, pushing the door behind her open all the way. "I don't think I've ever played one, but it sounds like one. Sora, maybe we should get you something to drink?" She took a step back inside, gesturing Sora to follow.

"You really don't remember any of it, do you?" Sora whispered, head tilting forward as she frowned and stepped through the doorway. She closed the door behind her as Mimi led the short distance to the kitchen. The apartment design was similar but opposite of the Yagami's. Though there was furniture and other furnishings, most of it was worn and tattered.

Outside, Ishimura grimaced as he heard the door click shut. He turned and began back down the stairs, glaring down to the next floor as he walked. Once he had descended a flight he shot the glare at the floor above him in the direction of the Tachikawa's apartment.


	9. Chapter 9: History

How many fanfics end up getting dropped halfway through, and how many people pick them back up months later? I'm hoping to accomplish the latter. As I said before, most of it was that I was burnt out. However, this chapter wouldn't be what it is without the knowledge I've gained from subbed episodes, and that couldn't have happened without delaying this chapter for so long.

I hope my old readership is still out there. Reviews are always appreciated.

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**Chapter 9: History**

An erratic crackling and popping came from the pan on the stove. Floured shrimp, now fried, rested in the shallow pool created from the heat. Each was scooped out and onto a plate via a spatula guided by Yamato's hand.

The male stood in the kitchenette of an apartment. He wore a black, short-sleeved T-shirt and matching sweatpants cut off just below the knees. His actions were methodical. Once the shrimp were all soaking the paper towel on the plate, he turned around. The refrigerator door opened easily, and he withdrew a carton of orange juice that he then placed beside the plate of shrimp. He took two glasses from the overhead cupboard, oblivious to the hum of the fan beside it that was still sucking up the steam from cooking. A sharp dinging made his head snap to the right and broke him from his trance.

With a single step he glided past the stove and over to the rice cooker, shaking his head to clear the surprise its signal had caused. He leaned back as he lifted the lid from it, and he set the lid aside. Steam escaped to join that caused by the shrimp. After a moment Yamato took a serving spoon and began scooping the rice into two bowls. Then he took a dispenser and emptied a spiral of soy sauce onto the contents of each bowl.

"Dad, dinner's ready!" he called out to be heard over the fan and the television set. Scooping each bowl into his hands he took two measured steps to the table. It was in the center of the apartment and outside the alcove formed by the kitchenette. Afterwards he went back for the plate of shrimp, and then a third time he went to bring the glasses and the carton of orange juice. Chopsticks and napkins had already been placed at both seats.

The door on the other side of the room opened as a middle-aged man stepped through it. Unlike Yamato, his father had dark brown eyes and brown hair. His hair was due to be cut, and bangs hung down into his eyes. Stubble on his face was a day overdue to be shaved. He was dressed in business attire. The button-up shirt was off-white, needing to be washed, and a press pass dangled from the man's neck. Beneath the pass was a navy blue tie, loosened at the top. Tan slacks were barely held up by a belt that threatened to give underneath a gut that had started to form. Yamato's father took his seat, glancing at the television only long enough to see what was on.

Both were silent as they began to eat. Yamato ate consistently, taking measured clumps of rice between his chopsticks and putting them into his mouth. His father, however, ate much more slowly. Neither had any enthusiasm as they ate, but Yamato's eyes darted around impatiently, and his right knee bobbed up and down beneath the table. After a couple of minutes he snatched up the television remote and turned the box off. His father gave no reaction to the sudden quiet. The fan in the kitchenette was still going, but its hum was dull.

"We could have invited Takeru for dinner," Yamato commented, finally lifting his eyes to glance across the table at his father.

"I have work in an hour," the man replied, eyes still intent on the meal he was slowly poking at.

"Just sitting here eating with us would have been enough for him," Yamato countered levelly. He stuffed a bite into his mouth and swallowed it quickly. "I made time for him after practice and after the concert, but you keep using work as an excuse." This made Yamato's father look up, forgetting the half-eaten shrimp between his chopsticks. "Work's only an excuse if you've been assigned to a real story."

"I haven't been," Yamato's father admitted, eyes dropping back to his meal. "You know how quiet night shift is." Yamato gave a snort in response.

"If it's so quiet you could have taken the night off and spent it with Takeru," Yamato told him sternly. Silence filled the gap between them, and Yamato's eyes dropped back to his meal.

"How is he?" the man asked.

"He and Natsuko have settled in and are doing fine," Yamato answered. "He's found a few old," Yamato hesitated, choosing his words, "acquaintances at school." His father smiled weakly. Silence stood between them once more, and Yamato poured himself a glass of orange juice and filled his father's glass after asking. Another minute passed without either speaking.

"Can we turn the TV back on now?" Yamato's father asked. The man was only halfway through his rice, and Yamato had completely emptied his bowl.

"There's," Yamato bit his lip, eyes narrowing as he shook his head marginally. "There's something else I'd like to talk about." His father said nothing. "What really happened in the attacks three years ago?"

"You know I don't like to talk about that," his father hissed, eyes suddenly sharp, and his voice showed the first real emotion it had had during their conversation. "You made your point by getting on my case about work."

"That detail's not important," Yamato said softly as he met his father's glare. "I want to know what happened in Odaiba, not what happened to you specifically."

Yamato's father took a deep breath before setting his chopsticks onto the table beside his bowl. The plate of shrimp between the two had three shrimp still waiting to be eaten, and only two of the six emptied tails were on the older man's side. His gaze turned to his left. Their phone rested on a small stand beside the refrigerator. Yamato's father opened the drawer beneath the phone, and he withdrew a pack of cigarettes and the lighter resting beside it. After removing one of the cylinders, he tossed the pack back into the drawer. Slowly, he pushed back his seat and stood, sauntered over to the side of the television, and opened the curtains and a sliding door wide enough to let in a gentle breeze. Outside it was evening, and the sun had already crossed over the horizon. Twilight had not yet ended.

Nervously, Yamato's father placed the cigarette into his mouth and proceeded to light it. Once it was lit, the lid of the lighter snapped closed, and the man dropped the object into his shirt pocket. He inhaled deeply, waited, and then took the cylinder between his fingers so he could exhale the smoke through the open door.

"On August first of ninety-nine, sometime mid-afternoon, there were explosions surrounding the Highton View Terrace apartments in Hikarigaoka," the man recited. His eyes were focused somewhere on the horizon, oblivious to the apartments surrounding them. "Four years prior there had been a nearly identical incident that was reported as a terrorist attack." The man's tone softened as he whispered, "The coincidence should have been a warning."

"Was there anything strange about it?" Yamato cut in. "Anything unusual?" The man turned his gaze to Yamato.

"Almost all of the damage was to the streets and vehicles," the man answered. "Some of the vehicles were literally crushed, like something had landed on them, but there wasn't enough debris for that, and the positioning was all wrong." He shook his head. "There was also a large crater in one of the streets, just down from where the bridge had crumbled: bigger than a car, maybe as long as a bus, but too wide. There was never an official explanation."

"What did they think it was?" Yamato asked. His gaze was intent on his father.

"A misfire?" Yamato's father suggested, and he waved a hand dismissively. "It's not important. That evening there was an incident at the harbor in Shibaura." The man grinned and met his son's gaze. "That warehouse you performed at last night used to be a nightclub. Its front wall was blown in. Over a dozen people were injured. There wasn't any evidence to link it to everything else except the timing and the next attack.

"On August second, the Tokyo Tower in Shibaura was hit. Somehow an entire wall of windows was blown out without anyone getting hurt and without any damage to the inside. Most of the damage was on the rooftop above the tourist center. One of the support beams on the rooftop was melted, but a miracle kept the tower up.

"Shibuya Center was next, and the attack came in the late evening. Just like Tokyo Tower, the damage was on the rooftops and the upper floors of buildings. All the damage came from outside the buildings. The only explanation is that the damage was caused by ordnance.

"That was the night communications went down," the man's voice became sober, and he inhaled again through the cigarette. "There was also a terrible fog, like some force of nature wanted the nightmare to happen. I went out to the streets with my crew. That was when a group of teenagers attacked my news van." The man choked, and tears welled in his eyes. He staggered back from the door and dropped abruptly onto his seat at the table. "And I ran like a damn coward."

Yamato's gaze dropped away from his father. The boy's mouth worked, and his eyes searched the table. There were no words to be found in his empty bowl, the chopsticks forgotten in his hands, or the shrimp that had cooled on the plate between the two.

"I don't remember much after that, "Yamato's father continued. "Sometime between then and the morning the emergency order went out for everyone to go to Tokyo Big Sight, the only place in the city large enough to hold everyone and keep them safe. A section of the Rainbow Bridge had been knocked out, and we were trapped in the city. When it all ended the entire area around the Fuji Television station had been decimated, and vandalism had hit every corner of Odaiba that was still standing."

Yamato slouched in his chair, but he quickly stood up and took his bowl to the sink. He stood there, eyes focusing on nothing, and rested his hands on the edge of the counter for balance.

"Was anyone ever arrested for it?" Yamato asked weakly. "Were there ever any leads?"

"The teenagers that attacked my crew were wearing masks, and it was the same with every other eyewitness account," the man answered. "It was either hackers or an inside job that took out the city's infrastructure. International media blamed the Yakuza." Yamato's father snorted as he mentioned the Yakuza, and his voice filled with more anger. "We have an entire city put under quarantine and it's treated like a joke, but when America gets attacked two years later we keep hearing about it like it's the end of the world. All because someone owned up to that attack and no one took responsibility for ours." The man gripped the edges of the table, shaking visibly. His voice weakened and took on a foreboding tone. "Something like that could happen again and we'd never see it coming."

Yamato walked back to the table and stood beside his father. He held out his hand, and his father handed him the cigarette. His father buried his head in his hands, still shaking. Yamato walked around the chair and stopped beside the television to put out the cigarette in an ashtray. Yamato turned around slowly, sitting back slightly and resting most of his weight on the cabinet that the ashtray was on top of. His father sniffed loudly.

"I'll be late for work," the man announced as he rose from his seat and headed back into his room. He came back out wearing a blue jacket that was much cleaner than the rest of his appearance. Before exiting the apartment he gave a curt, "Good night, Yamato." The door closed behind the man, and Yamato was left to himself.

Wind was still blowing gently through the open sliding door, and the hum of the fan in the kitchenette was the only noise in the quiet. Yamato moved mechanically, picking up his father's half-eaten bowl of rice and setting it on the counter beside the stove. He reached into one of the cabinets beneath the stove and pulled out the Saran wrap, and he deftly wrapped a sheet over the bowl. Yamato then placed the bowl into the refrigerator before returning to the table and giving the shrimp an uncertain stare. He picked up his chopsticks, lifted a shrimp to his mouth, and took a bite.

His eyes drifted slowly towards the television set, to the cabinet opposite the one with the ashtray. On top was a collection of three pictures, and Yamato's eyes stopped on the center one. It was too small to be seen clearly from where he stood, but the wallet-sized picture showed a family of four. The father was clearly Yamato's, and both of the boys were identifiable as Yamato and Takeru despite the age of the picture.

Though he couldn't see Takeru's face clearly from where he stood, Yamato's eyes settled on his younger brother. Yamato exhaled a long sigh.


	10. Chapter 10: Digivice

I'd like to thank everyone for the warm return they gave me.

Daisuke fans will be glad to see his cameo, and Ken fans will hopefully forgive me when they realize his sad reality in this AU. I'm sad, too, because Ken's my favorite character out of all five seasons.

By the way, take a look at the title of this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Digivice**

The stairwell amplified the noise of footsteps as a class walked in mostly single file to the upper level of the school. These students talked quietly amongst themselves, and their teacher led them to the computer lab. When the teacher reached the door he held it for his students and ushered them into the room. He was young with a full head of dark hair, and he had an almost casual expression. His blue blazer bore the emblem of one of the nearby high schools.

"Some of the other teachers have been having problems with the network, but the server was working five minutes ago," he announced dryly, watching his students meander into the room. Near the back of the line were Hikari Yagami and Takeru Takaishi. A third student, a male with auburn hair and square goggles on his forehead, pulled Takeru aside.

"Look, Takaishi," the male whispered roughly, "just because you and Hikari are old friends doesn't mean the code doesn't apply: I've been in the same class with her for years." He gave Takeru a hard glare with his hazel eyes. Takeru just lifted an eyebrow.

"Motomiya, the code only applies if you're going to make a move on her," Takeru replied. "If you've been in her class for so long and there's not something going on with you two, then maybe it's a sign that she's not interested." Motomiya clenched his fist at his side. His light blue vest made him look bigger than he was, but in reality he was roughly the same size and height as Takeru. "But if we don't catch up to her, someone else is going to be sitting next to her in the lab." Motomiya's anger dissolved as his eyes darted to Hikari just as she entered the computer lab. Both Takeru and Motomiya rushed to catch up with their classmates, specifically Hikari.

Hikari had taken a seat in the first row. One computer separated her from the end of the row, and Takeru took that one while Motomiya took the one on her other side. Both of the boys watched each other from the corner of their eyes as they turned on their computers.

"Good morning, Takeru," Hikari said, and without pause added, "Good morning, Daisuke."

"Good morning, Hikari," Daisuke replied instantly. "How was your weekend?"

"It was," Hikari cast a glance at Takeru as she considered her answer, "fun." Daisuke noticed the glance and grit his teeth. "Did you know that Takeru's brother is the lead singer of the Teenage Wolves? They and a few other bands had a concert at Shibaura harbor on Saturday night." Takeru locked his eyes forward on his computer monitor and kept his face expressionless, staying out of the conversation.

"You," Daisuke's voice dropped a little as it filled with dread, "Went with Takaishi?" Hikari chuckled at the question.

"No, I went with Taichi," she answered. Daisuke's expression brightened and he gave a confident smirk. "Afterwards we met up with Takeru, but we didn't get to spend very much time together. He and his brother were busy with the cleanup." Takeru's computer had finished loading, and his mouse pointer went to the Internet browser. A connection bar began to fill.

"So, Hikari, I was thinking," Daisuke began, losing some of his confidence and letting his eyes drop from hers. "If you're not doing anything this weekend, I think we should-"

Suddenly a flash of light filled their corner of the room. For a moment none of them could see each other through it, and Daisuke stopped short in asking his question. When the light faded the Internet browser had loaded on Takeru's computer, and a small device was in his hand. At first glance it looked like a virtual pet toy. It had a small screen at the center, a large button on the left, two buttons on the right, and an antenna-like structure at the upper-left. All three of the students were staring at the device, and all other eyes in the room were on them.

"A Digivice," Takeru and Hikari whispered together.

"Was that a firework?" a male student asked from the row ahead of them, turning around in his chair. "You've got to tell me what brand that was."

"I don't think that was a firework," one of the girls replied from the row the trio was in. "I think the new kid's computer screen lit up."

"Computer screen's don't light up light that," the teacher cut in, standing between the last row of computers and walking past the other students to the three. "Whatever it was, hand it over now."

"You heard her, Mr. Hamasaki, it was the computer screen," Takeru told the teacher honestly as he clenched his hand around the device. Mr. Hamasaki pointed to Takeru's hand, where white and gray plastic was still visible, and Takeru pulled the device to himself quickly.

"You're not making a good impression, Takaishi," Mr. Hamasaki told him. The relaxed appearance the man had had was gone. "You've had nearly a week to adjust to this school, and I expect you to start acting like a responsible student." Takeru's hand loosened open slowly, and he glanced pleadingly to Hikari.

"It's mine, Mr. Hamasaki," Hikari lied. The man's eyes turned to her. "I loaned it to Takeru over the weekend, and he was just giving it back to me now so he wouldn't forget to during lunch."

"That doesn't excuse playing with it during class, Yagami," Mr. Hamasaki glowered at Hikari before turning his intense stare on Takeru. He held out his hand to the boy. "I'm going to confiscate it." Takeru reluctantly handed the device to his teacher.

"Hikari wasn't the one playing with it," Daisuke blurted, "I was." Mr. Hamasaki's grip closed on the device, and he turned his gaze to Daisuke. "I, uh," Daisuke hesitated, fidgeting with his mouse. "I wanted to see what it was, so I reached over to take it, and I think I accidentally hit one of the buttons." Sweat beaded just below the boy's goggles.

Mr. Hamasaki looked down at the device in his hand. "It doesn't even look like it's turned on," he commented before pressing each of the buttons. The device gave no reaction, and its screen remained blank. "It is kind of surprising that something this small could make a light that bright."

"Normally it wouldn't," Takeru took on a sullen look as he spoke, specifically avoiding Hikari's gaze. "It's embarrassing to admit this in front of everyone," indeed, all of the students in the room had been following the conversation closely, "and I wanted to tell you, Hikari, but I think I broke it. I was looking for the right way to tell you, and I was hoping maybe I could get it to Koushirou so he could get a look at it." Now his eyes met Hikari's. "Since he's so good with electronics."

"In any case," Mr. Hamasaki harrumphed, "I'll be confiscating it. All three of you know better than to be playing with toys in class." He pocketed the device and turned back to the other students. "I hope you enjoyed your break. Now it's time to get to work on your research."

"But Mr. Hamasaki, the Internet isn't working," one of the boys complained from the opposite end of the room. Mr. Hamasaki began walking away from the trio he had been reprimanding.

"The Internet's working just fine for me," one of the boys stated from a few seats' distance from the one that had spoke. "Maybe you just don't know how to use a computer."

"Hikari, we've got to get the Digivice back," Takeru whispered urgently as soon as Mr. Hamasaki couldn't overhear. "I can't believe I just gave it to him."

"You would have gotten in trouble," Hikari murmured, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "We'll have to wait until the end of class. In the meanwhile, we should try to contact the others."

"What was that toy?" Daisuke demanded quietly. "What's a Digivice?" He swallowed before glancing at Takeru's computer monitor. Incredulously he asked, "Did that come out of the computer?"

"Of course not," Takeru replied with a smile that was on the verge of laughter. "How could something come out of a computer?" His hands were back on his keyboard, and quickly an email window came up.

"It's a kind of virtual pet toy," Hikari equivocated. "Like a Tomagotchi or a Giga Pet."

"Then what's the big deal?" Daisuke wondered.

"It's a big deal because Hikari says it is," Takeru answered and gave Daisuke a wink. Daisuke's expression flickered between annoyance and compliance before settling on the latter. More seriously, Takeru added, "Hikari, remember how the Internet's been down all over town lately? It might be a good idea text everyone, too."

"Right," Hikari agreed. Her eyes scanned the room for Mr. Hamasaki, who was two rows away from them, before reaching into her backpack for her cell phone. She turned her head towards Daisuke. "Mr. Hamasaki will notice if I have my cell out for too long. Daisuke, I need you to text Taichi. Just tell him one word: 'Digivice.'"

Daisuke fumbled in the lower pocket of his brown cargo shorts. "I don't even know how to spell it," he grumbled, but quickly flipped open his cell phone and typed into it. A few seconds later he announced, "Sent."

"Hikari, do you have Mimi's email or her cell number?" Takeru asked suddenly. On the screen in front of him a short email was typed out: 'Computer lab. Digivce. Mr. Hamasaki took it. Going to try to get it back.' It was signed with Takeru's name, and five email addresses had already been filled in. Hikari shook her head.

"I forgot to get it from Sora," she frowned. Takeru quickly added another line: 'Sora, tell Mimi.' He sent the email and quickly switched to the school homepage just as Mr. Hamasaki came back around.

"Yagami, Motomiya," Mr. Hamasaki greeted, and quickly asked, "Is the Internet down on both of your computers, too?"

"I'm not having any luck at all today," Hikari told him with a weak smile, holding her cell phone against her leg so that the teacher couldn't see it. Daisuke's was already back in his pocket.

"The two of you will need to share Takeru's, then," Mr. Hamasaki sighed. "It's less than ideal, but it's better than needing to change my entire lesson plan." His dark eyes gave a sweeping gaze around the computer lab. The situation was the same with all of the others students. Only every third computer had a working connection. Slowly, Mr. Hamasaki walked away again.

"How are we supposed to do research at a time like this?" Takeru wondered.

"You're acting like it's the end of the world or something," Daisuke rolled his eyes, and they landed on Hikari. He reluctantly added, "But if Hikari thinks it's important, then it's important. It's just another half hour until lunch, and maybe Mr. Hamasaki will give the Digivice back then."

One by one, each of them took their turn at the computer. Takeru fidgeted constantly with the keyboard as he plodded through search results and history accounts. His eyes kept glancing up at Mr. Hamasaki rather than focusing on his research: cases of women that suffered sudden anemia and were reported in the Tokyo area three years prior. Two cases were reported in the Nerima and Itabashi districts on August first of that year, and several more were reported in Shibuya the following night. None occurred afterwards, and one line in an article suggested the possibility of biological warfare accompanying the attacks. However, Takeru took in none of the reading, and Hikari had zoned out.

When it was her turn, Hikari became restless. Rather than health, her topic was on local geniuses in the Tokyo area. She found nothing. It was clear that there hadn't been any especially gifted students during the past few years, and instead she had to resort to researching students that had simply scored the highest.

Daisuke grumbled when turn came, and at first sat staring at the screen without setting to work. His expression showed his frustrated boredom, and after glancing for Mr. Hamasaki he typed in the web address for a game. He used up the remaining time playing a platform game where he controlled a stylized cartoon donkey.

Daisuke's eyes snapped up when the bell finally rang. Takeru and Hikari immediately headed for Mr. Hamasaki, and Daisuke forgot to turn off the computer as he hurried to join them.

"Mr. Hamasaki," Takeru began, "I know it was wrong for me to take the toy out during class, but," he trailed off and bit his lip, giving a sideways glance at Hikari. "It would have been embarrassing giving it back to Hikari in front of her friends. You remember what it's like at this age, don't you?" Daisuke gave Takeru an edged look but said nothing.

"There are rules for a reason, Takaishi," Mr. Hamasaki explained, much calmer than he had been before, almost as relaxed as he had been when the class first entered the computer lab. "We need to keep distractions out of the classroom so students can concentrate on their school work. I know you're all still young, but the job market's getting more competitive by the day. Respect and discipline are essential, and learning is vital."

"Neither of them meant any disrespect," Daisuke countered. "I told you before: I was the one that hit the button. Takaishi and Hikari were waiting for their computers to load up. How can you blame them for what they did when all the rest of the kids in the class were showing the same disrespect by talking to each other?"

Mr. Hamasaki grinned slightly and shook his head. He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew the Digivice, and handed it to Hikari. "I guess you're right, Motomiya. You said it was your fault that this toy lit up, so you'll be the one to take the punishment. I want you to stay after school all this week."

Daisuke's jaw dropped, and for a second he seemed ready to recant his story. His eyes fell on Hikari, who gave him a shy smile, and he closed his mouth in defeat. "I understand," he surrendered.

All four of them left the classroom together, and Mr. Hamasaki quickly walked down the hallway. Hikari passed the Digivice back to Takeru.

"I can't believe it, Hikari," Takeru muttered in awe, staring at the device in his palm.

"So is anyone going to tell me what's so important about a toy?" Daisuke asked, and suddenly Hikari's arms were wrapped around him in a hug. His expression softened instantly, and he was still grinning once the girl had pulled away.

"I know this isn't much of an answer, Daisuke, but it just is," Hikari replied. With complete sincerity she added, "Thank you." She turned and started to leave, and just as Takeru was about to follow her Daisuke pulled the boy back.

"Takaishi," Daisuke spoke the other's name, and only the gleam in his eyes betrayed the solemnity in his voice. "I took the fall for Hikari, not for you. That toy had better be worth a week's detention."

"It is, Motomiya," Takeru assured him, smiling. "It is."


	11. Chapter 11: Infrastructure Meltdown

This chapter felt very forced while I was writing it. Its original conception was two separate (and somewhat different) chapters, and the end result was using the premise of one and tossing Jyou into it so he could get more screen time. Eh, we'll see what everyone thinks.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Infrastructure Meltdown**

Car horns filled the afternoon air with a cacophony of impatience and panic. Most streetlights blinked their red light steadily, no longer triggered or timed by their computers. Traffic had built up, and transportation was at a standstill. Most motorists were only watching other vehicles, and were oblivious to the pedestrians. Takeru and Hikari were two such pedestrians.

"Takeru, maybe you should head home instead of walking with me," Hikari suggested.

"I'll just call my mom from your apartment and let her know I'm with a friend," Takeru replied. His foot tapped on the sidewalk as yet another car pulled past the white line in front of them. "We need to get the entire group together and figure this out." Takeru's right hand was clenched tightly inside his pocket.

"And what if the phone lines at my apartment are out just like the ones at school?" Hikari countered, turning her head and giving the boy a firm stare. Takeru's eyes held straight ahead on the road, ignoring the look. "My cell phone's still not getting reception, either." Finally a driver stopped and signaled the two to cross. Both started into a brisk walk, as did a few others that had been on the opposite side of the street.

"Mom's a journalist," Takeru argued, holding out his free had in a shrug, "by the time she realizes I'm late the phones will probably be back up again." Hikari lifted an eyebrow skeptically, but her expression slowly softened.

"I'm excited, too, Takeru," she acknowledged, relenting slightly, "but unless the rest of us suddenly get our Digivices or yours starts working, we'll have to be content with just knowing it's all true." Quietly, almost to herself, she added, "And for some of us, just knowing is enough."

Crowds had formed in and around the small businesses the two passed. Mothers exited a convenience store with as many bags as they could carry. Most of the customers had chosen to stock up on foodstuffs, but while the women had targeted foodstuffs and practical items a few of the men had chosen every unnecessary product the stores sold. Takeru and Hikari gave the crowd a synchronized blink of uncertainty before staring at each other in confusion.

"Takeru!" a voice shouted ahead of them. "Hikari!" Koushirou waved as he rushed to meet up with them. His voice was filled with anticipation, and he only barely kept his voice low enough so that he wasn't overheard. "Do you two really have one? Did you two figure it all out?"

Takeru nodded, tearing his gaze from the crowd and withdrawing his hand from his pocket. He held the Digivice so that only Koushirou and Hikari could see it. At the edges of the devices small indentations had formed in Takeru's hand from clenching it for so long. The device's screen was still blank, but Koushirou's brown eyes glimmered with a rabid excitement as he stared down at it. After a moment, Takeru slipped it back into his pocket.

"We didn't figure anything out, we don't know why it appeared, and we don't know why it won't work," Takeru answered. "But we have it." His eyes left Koushirou and he carefully considered the people around them. "Is there a sale at the convenience store or something?" Koushirou blinked, breaking free of the trance he had fallen into and glanced at the increasing line at the shop just a few meters away.

"Didn't they make an announcement while you two were at school?" Koushirou asked. "City-wide communications went down earlier this afternoon." He pointed to the streetlight where the two had been stuck waiting for a chance to cross. "The city's infrastructure started having glitches at the same time. Phone lines and cell towers are down, the Internet's down, television and radio broadcasts are having interference." Biting his lip, Koushirou gave another glance at the line outside the convenience store. "Looks like the whole city's panicking, but we have our own problems." He turned his gaze to Hikari. "I don't know how many of us got your email. Get home and make sure Taichi knows."

"But he's at soccer practice," Hikari began, but Koushirou cut her off.

"It might have been cancelled," Koushirou explained, "and if not, leave him a note."

"Okay," Hikari nodded, glancing between Koushirou and Takeru before heading towards the closest apartment complex. Koushirou's eyes followed her for only a few seconds, but Takeru's lingered.

"I live in the complex a block down," Koushirou said. "Do you have to get home, or do you have time to fill me in?"

"I have time," Takeru lied, and he began following Koushirou. Most of the people were concentrated around the convenience stores, but a few occasionally passed by the duo. Takeru's voice lowered and his blue eyes scanned the area around them while he spoke. "There's not much to tell. Hikari and I were in the computer lab and the Digivice just appeared." After a moment he reluctantly added, "I think it might have came out of the computer."

"Are you sure you didn't do something to trigger it?" Koushirou asked. "Turning on the computer? Logging in? Opening a specific program? Were both you and Hikari-"

"The Internet," Takeru cut in. "I think I went online right before it appeared."

"The Internet," Koushirou echoed with a frown as the two were stopped at another crosswalk. When a car stopped for them, Takeru had to nudge Koushirou to cross. The older boy's eyes had glazed over, and walking had become a reflex. "Did anything else happen?"

"Nothing besides lighting up half the room when it appeared," Takeru replied. "I don't know whether it was the Digivice or the computer. That doesn't matter though, because the Digivice doesn't work. The screen's blank, none of the buttons do anything, and there's no on switch."

Koushirou said nothing, but his eyes darted about in a haphazard way as he led Takeru up a few flights of stairs. When they finally started on one of the floors, Jyou was pacing in front of a door.

"Koushirou!" Jyou greeted enthusiastically when he spotted the two. "Takeru!" He made no effort to move towards them, and the two greeted him as they stopped at the door. "I got Hikari's text," Jyou explained, "and I came right over after I dropped my things off upstairs. Your mom said I could wait for you, but I was too excited to sit still."

"Let's go inside," Koushirou suggested, opening the door and kicking off his shoes. The other two boys did the same, and Koushirou's adopted mother waved from down the hallway. She had a warm, motherly expression, and was wearing a yellow apron over a green shirt and lavender skirt. Unlike Koushirou's auburn hair, Mrs. Izumi's was brown, falling to past her shoulders. Her eyes were a much lighter brown.

"Could I get you all something to eat?" she asked politely.

"I'm still too excited to eat, ma'am," Jyou replied just as Koushirou added, "I'm fine, Mom."

"I'm fine, too," Takeru echoed. "Thank you."

The three entered the first door on their right. A nameplate beside it marked it as Koushirou's bedroom. Inside, there was enough room to comfortably fit the three of them. It was open in the center, with only Koushirou's bed sticking out noticeably along the left wall. A computer desk was in front of his window, perpendicular to the head of his bed, and the wall to the right had several bookcases side by side.

When Jyou shut the door behind them, Takeru withdrew the Digivice from his pocket a second time, once again holding it out for the other two to see. His knuckles had gone white from gripping it for so long.

"I don't believe it," Jyou whispered, leaning in and fidgeting with his glasses to get a better look.

"Believe it, Jyou," Koushirou told him with the same grin he had had when he'd first seen it. His attention broke from the device as he asked, "May I?" to Takeru, and when he received a nod he took the Digivice. First he flipped it over, looking at the plain backside. Then he flipped it back over and tested each button. After each had failed to activate the Digivice, he pressed down the big button and held it. That gave no response, so he repeated the process with the other two buttons, and then tried it with each combination. "Nothing," he concluded, relinquishing the item back to Takeru.

"So does that mean it's worthless?" Takeru asked in despair, slouching down to sit on Koushirou's bed.

"If the others recognize it, it's enough to get the group back together," Jyou commented, crossing his arms in front of him. "Isn't that what we've been trying to do from the beginning?"

"We've been trying to prove that the Digital World is real," Koushirou corrected, sliding down onto his purple swivel chair. His fingers raced across his keyboard, waking his sleeping computer and opening three text files. "Up until now we've only had our memories, and for some reason none of us remember very much." Breaking from his concentration, Koushirou added, "Takeru, if now's a good time I'd like to hear what you remember. There's always a chance it'll trigger our memories, and maybe we'll find a clue to activating the Digivice."

"What I remember?" Takeru echoed, looking up. He grimaced and gave a small snort. "Almost nothing. I remembered Patamon's name before Hikari reminded me a few days ago, but I didn't remember Angemon. In fact, the way I remember it, Patamon couldn't evolve." Koushirou's fingers typed Takeru's statement word for word. "I kind of remember File Island, but mostly just that that's the name of the place we were. I've also got the image in my head of some place colorful, but I don't know where it was."

"Do you remember the names of any Digimon?" Koushirou prodded.

"DemiDevimon," Takeru answered, "and Devimon."

"Devimon was the Digimon we fought on File Island," Koushirou explained, nodding. "I don't recognize DemiDevimon, though. Jyou?"

"It's familiar like everything else is familiar," Jyou replied, shaking his head. "Like when you've got something underwater, but even though it's just under the surface the water's bending it so you can't tell what it is."

"How poetic," Takeru joked. He straightened back up. "That's all I can remember right now, Koushirou. My memories aren't of any help, so shouldn't we just focus on what we can do?"

"Unless the phone lines come back up, there's nothing we can do," Koushirou replied, spinning around in his chair. "And the only person I know that's good with electronics is Ishimura."

"Ishimura?" Jyou asked as his face lost its color. "The guy that picked a fight with me the other night?"

"Can we really trust him?" Takeru asked. "He's playing his own game, and he's not part of the team."

"I know you two like him the least," Koushirou told them, holding out his hands defensively, "but if it wasn't for Ishimura then Yamato might not have listened to us the other night." His chair spun marginally so that he was facing Jyou. "And he wants to apologize to you. He didn't know about our meeting, and he wanted to find out if Mimi believed in the Digital World. Which, according to Sora, she doesn't." Koushirou's mouth twitched, starting as a frown, but a grin quickly replaced it. "However, if four of us recognized the Digivice without any doubts, Mimi should, too. And for making it work, asking Ishimura to take it apart is my only idea."

"You know," Jyou started timidly, shuffling his feet, "when Ishimura picked that fight I didn't feel like he was really picking a fight. He kept telling me to back off, and the look in his eyes made me think he was surprised I was standing up for myself at all." Takeru and Koushirou chuckled, and Jyou's dark brown eyes went to Takeru's blue. "You were at the meeting, Takeru. What was he really after?"

"I don't know," Takeru admitted, resting his hands on his knees and staring across at the bookshelves. "Maybe he really just wants to know the truth. It is pretty unbelievable."

"I may have another idea," Koushirou spoke up. "I've had this theory for a while now. The term Digital World implies a world of data, and both File Island and the Server Continent are plays on two computer terms. A file is any single program, and a server is a computer that's part of a network. File Island would have also been a small part of the Server Continent. Taking that literal analogy step further, the Server Continent would only be a portion of a Digital World."

"What are you saying?" Jyou asked.

"What I'm saying," Koushirou explained, "is that I think the Digital World is comprised of several servers. Not continents, but computers. I think the Digital World is the really the Internet."

"Which explains why the Digivice appeared when I opened my Internet browser," Takeru added.

"Exactly," Koushirou nodded. "What time did you say the Digivice appeared?"

"In class before lunch," Takeru answered. "Around eleven."

"And the infrastructure problems had started by noon," Koushirou replied. "I got your email because I logged on during lunch, but the Internet went down a few minutes later. I don't have lunch with the others, or I wouldn't have known the Internet was down until I got home. But the important question is this: why did the Digivice appear now, and why, when Hikari was right there next to you, did only yours appear? My guess is this: the Tokyo area has been having Internet problems for months now. If the Digital World really is the Internet, then that means the Digital World has been suffering from, or perhaps even causing, these problems. It's possible that whoever sent the Digivice wasn't able to send the rest of them, and it's also possible that they weren't able to send it while it was operational either. That part of my theory may be a stretch, but if the Digivice came through the computer you were using there may be a trail we can follow."

"But if the city's infrastructure is down, won't they cancel school?" Jyou asked.

"Koushirou!" Mrs. Izumi called from deeper inside the apartment. "The television's back on."

The three boys scrambled at those words, rushing out into the hallway and stopping just short of the living room. It was well furnished, and the large television set implied that the Izumi family was wealthy. There was no couch in front of the television, and Koushirou's mother was seated on one of the chairs at the table. On the screen a reporter was speaking.

"We repeat: Odaiba's infrastructure is coming back online. Traffic delays are expected to continue well into the evening, but everything is expected to be normal sometime tonight or tomorrow morning. Public officials are urging that no one panic, and police are currently investigating both the unusual power outage that caused this problem as well as rioters in the downtown area."

"That timing can't be a coincidence," Jyou muttered.

"My phone's still dead," Takeru added, holding his cell phone in his left hand while his Digivice was still clenched in his right.

"Maybe it wasn't a coincidence," Koushirou whispered. "The Digivices may be getting sent singularly. Furthermore, this tells us something else: school won't be cancelled. I'll be investigating that computer tomorrow afternoon."


	12. Chapter 12: Uragiru

Some are chosen to have a place in history while others forge their own place in it. For all of them, there is a moment of choice where their decision will change the world itself. When that moment comes, is there truly any choice, or does destiny predetermine what will be?

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**Chapter 12: Uragiru**

In the school hallway, Miyako Inoue and Iori Hida descended down the stairwell as Takeru Takaishi and Koushirou Izumi approached the door to the computer lab. Other than these four, the surrounding hallways were quiet and lifeless. Sunlight filtered in through the window on the opposite side of the hall from the lab. Outside, the weather was cloudy, but the afternoon kept it from being dark.

"I hate having to lie to them," Koushirou reflected, shifting uncomfortably in his school uniform as he followed Takeru into the computer lab. Inside, the lights of the room were already on, spaced out at even intervals across the ceiling, each above a computer monitor. There were four rows, each split into two halves by the center aisle of the room. Both the desks and the plastic casings of the monitors and towers were white, unusually clean for being in a school.

"You didn't exactly lie to them," Takeru replied with a shrug. He led Koushirou to the computer at the far end of the first row: the one beside the window. There was a second aisle along the windows as well as another on the opposite wall where the bulletin board hung. "You said you had to do some maintenance work on the computers and that it's related to yesterday's crisis." There was a short pause before Takeru added, "Maybe it's not, but we've got our money on it." He gestured to the computer. "I was sitting at this one, and Hikari was sitting next to me."

"Hopefully I can finish before those two get back," Koushirou muttered, not excusing the lie as easily as Takeru had. He pulled out the chair to sit, set his laptop on the small space of desk to the left of the computer, and turned on both computers with a quick movement. Unlike this one, some others in the room had been left on, forgotten by students in their haste to leave at the end of the school day.

"It'll take them about a half hour," Takeru informed him. "They live in the same apartment complex I do, and it's twelve or thirteen minutes each way, plus however long it takes to get the snacks from Iori's mom."

While Takeru was speaking, Koushirou slipped a cable into the side of his laptop and ran it to the desktop computer, needing to crouch under the desk to find an outlet for it in the other computer's tower. A wooden plank beneath the desk held the two towers for stations above. Both laptop and desktop finished booting, and Koushirou proceeded to log into each, simply nodding in automatic response to the younger boy's words.

The door to the computer lab opened a second time, and Ishimura entered the room. This time he wore a black leather jacket over a silvery black tank top. Jet-black jeans remained the same as always, and beneath them a discreet pair of Nikes had a coloring similar to the tank top. Both Takeru and Koushirou looked up at him once the door clicked shut.

"Sorry I'm late," Ishimura announced, casually approaching the duo and stopping at the intersection between the desks. "I knew it would take you a few minutes to secure the room, and I wanted to change. I can't stand the uniform they make us wear." His green eyes gave a confirming, distasteful glare at Koushirou's uniform, but broke away to look at both of the boys. "What do you think?" he asked, slipping his black backpack off so that he could spin around for them. "Is the leather jacket too much?" Takeru and Koushirou simply stared in disbelief. "Guess I asked the wrong crowd."

Ishimura picked up his backpack and walked to an open desk at the right side of the third row. Though there was a computer tower beneath the desk, no monitor or keyboard joined it on top. Ishimura opened his backpack and poured out a sample of tools onto the desk: a variety of screwdrivers, pliers, various types of wiring, and a cable designed to fit into a computer port with the other end open to fit a few of the extra tools that were unidentifiable to Takeru. From the front of the bag Ishimura withdrew a CD and set it beside the computer next to his workstation.

"Shouldn't the others be here?" Ishimura asked as Takeru approached him. He jostled the mouse to the computer beside him, waking it from its sleep.

"Taichi, Sora, and my brother all have practice," Takeru replied, staring down at the assorted tools. His hand fumbled into the pocket of his shorts and he withdrew the Digivice. Its screen was still blank. "Mimi's not up to speed yet, Jyou's probably busy with school, and Hikari needs to spend the afternoon with her mom."

Across the room, Koushirou had become absorbed in his work. A row ahead of him one of the windows had been left partway open, allowing a gentle breeze to cool the room of the heat from the computers. However, aside from the spot in front of the window, the room was still warm.

"I suppose it's not important that they be here yet," Ishimura replied distractedly. He was rapidly becoming as absorbed in his work as Koushirou. "It won't do them any good if Koushirou and I don't find a lead." He began arranging the tools in a specific order on the desk, leaving the center open for his workspace. When his eyes broke away from the desk and settled on Takeru's hand, Ishimura finally turned his full attention to the blonde. "That's the Digivice?"

"Yeah, this is the Digivice," Takeru answered, opening his hand and cupping the device so that Ishimura could see it more clearly. "Are you sure you know how to put it back together after you take it apart?"

"As long as it's an electronic device," Ishimura replied. He popped the CD free of its case, and took it and his cable in hand as he crouched beneath the desk. "This cable will allow the computer to interface with some of my other tools," he explained. "Basically, as long as the Digivice has a motherboard, I'm going to hook it up to the computer. If it's just missing power, I'll give it power. If there's a short, I'll find and fix it. While I'm at it, I'll duplicate the program." Ishimura's voice was full of complete certainty. When he came back out from the under the desk he looked up into Takeru's eyes as he slid back into his chair. "If we can't figure out how to get the rest of your Digivices, I'll build them myself."

"Just try to be careful," Takeru cautioned, setting the Digivice at the center of Ishimura's workstation. "It's all we've got right now. I'm going to run to the bathroom, and I'll be back in a couple of minutes." Despite his words, Takeru stalled, staring down at his Digivice. With a swallow he finally turned and headed for the door. Koushirou, still distracted by his laptop and the computer in front of him, didn't notice as Takeru left. With Takeru gone, Ishimura became similarly preoccupied. The only noises in the room were the soft whir of the CD drive in Ishimura's computer and the keystrokes of both teens' fingers against their keyboards. Lost beneath those sounds was an inaudible whir by the other computers that had been left on, as well as the silent breeze from outside.

Takeru had been out of the room for nearly a minute when the progress meter in front of Ishimura showed that his software was being installed on the computer. He slid his chair over to his workstation and peered down at the Digivice. On the front, there were no signs of the screws that held the device together, but a line around the edges suggested that the outside was comprised of two pieces. He reached towards it, hesitating only a moment before touching the device.

When he did touch it, a light similar to that of the day before shined from the screen. It was not as bright as it had been, which made it blend into the white color of the room around it, but it shot far enough out that Koushirou could have seen it if he had looked up. Koushirou did not, however, and remained oblivious to the event while his attention remained focused in nearly the opposite direction. Lost beneath the light of the device was a soft hum different than that of the computers. Only a few short seconds had passed when the device stopped glowing, but the front panel now displayed the time.

Ishimura stared at it, dumbstruck. His hand cupped around the device, and he picked it up and held it in front of him to inspect it more closely. He carefully pressed the large button. A blank screen replaced the time, displaying nothing, so he pressed the button again. Now a nine-square grid appeared, black lines surrounding the white squares of the grid. Pressing the button again made the screen go blank once more, but a small, red, flashing plus sign appeared in the lower half of the left side of the screen. Ishimura's eyes pulled away from the device, following to his left as if the center the screen was the spot where he stood. Koushirou was in the vicinity of the red plus icon.

Pocketing the Digivice, Ishimura stood up and walked silently to the back of the room where Koushirou sat. The boxes and reference manuals on the shelf had still not been organized. Past Koushirou, in the corner of the room, was a dusty and cobwebbed television set. Ishimura slid out the chair beside Koushirou as if to sit, but instead lifted it into the air. Koushirou remained focused on the two monitors in front of him, unaware of anything else around him. Ishimura swung the chair, striking Koushirou in the side of the head with the chair leg. Koushirou fell forward from the blow, hitting his head on the desk on his way to the ground. Ishimura set the chair down casually, sliding it back in place, and frowned at Koushirou's lifeless body.

Behind Ishimura, Takeru stared at the scene in shock. Ishimura's legs concealed most of Koushirou's body from view, but the trail of blood running down the back of Koushirou's head was visible from where Takeru stood.

"Koushirou…" he whispered, eyes welling up with tears as they sharpened into a glare aimed at the attacker. "Ishimura!" In answer, the taller boy spun around to face Takeru, his eyes mirroring the same preparation of tears.

"You have two choices, Takeru Takaishi," Ishimura told the younger boy. His voice was firm with a strength and deadly certainty he had never before used. "Fight a losing battle against me right now, or run off to get help for Koushirou, letting me escape."

"Why did you attack Koushirou?" Takeru demanded, clenching his right fist in front of him. In response, Ishimura reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the Digivice. He held it out in front of him as he took a step towards Takeru. The two were now separated by the width of the aisle. Takeru stared at the device in surprise, able to see the seconds ticking by on its display. "You were able to activate it?" His fist lowered to his waist, and Ishimura leaped towards him.

Ishimura's left fist caught Takeru in the mouth, and the momentum of the leap sent the two tumbling over. Takeru returned a worthless punch to Ishimura's gut, but the older boy was on top of him. His left arm had been pinned, but with his right he attempted to fend off punches to his face as he squirmed beneath Ishimura's weight.

"I was disappointed when Jyou Kido didn't put up a real fight at the club," Ishimura told Takeru, getting in three punches before Takeru caught Ishimura with one of his own. Having been hit in the chin, the older boy lost balance, and Takeru pushed him off far enough that he was able to get out from under Ishimura and back into the cabinet behind him to the left.

"I knew we couldn't trust you," Takeru cursed, raising his fists in front of his face as both he and Ishimura rose back to their feet. This time Takeru went on a full offensive, catching Ishimura off-guard with a left hook. "I knew we couldn't trust you!"

Ishimura stumbled from the attack, landing against the desk behind him. His left hand sought balance, but when he gripped the keyboard behind him he slid with it. Takeru took the opportunity and kneed him in the chest, making Ishimura drop to the floor. In an instant, Ishimura threw his foot into Takeru's right shin and followed it with a kick to the left. While Takeru winced in pain Ishimura stumbled towards the door and spun back onto his feet.

"This wasn't my choice," Ishimura replied venomously, gaining balance to throw a left roundhouse kick as Takeru rushed him. It caught Takeru in the side and made him trip into the row of computers, hitting a computer monitor headfirst. The monitor toppled over, plastic casing shattering as it crashed into the tile floor. Ishimura pulled his leg back and sent another kick into the younger boy's head. Takeru staggered back, going into the aisle. Ishimura dove forward and twisted with another kick, tripping Takeru. He fell, hitting the back of his head on the desk behind him, and stared dizzily up at his opponent. Ishimura clarified: "This was my destiny."

He rose back to his feet, looming over Takeru for several seconds. His green eyes stared down at disoriented blue, and he stomped his foot down into the younger boy's groin. Takeru let out a shout of pain, beginning to doubling up as Ishimura stomped a second time into the Takeru's gut. The younger boy coughed, losing all the air from his lungs. Ishimura followed the stomp by kicking the younger boy's head, which slammed into the side of the desk, and he kicked seven more times in his rage. When Ishimura stopped, the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing.

Beneath Ishimura, Takeru's nose bled profusely from both nostrils, leaving the lower half of his face red and wet. His head was dented where the repeated kicks had landed. This spot bled as well, but more slowly than his nose. Red slowly stained the cream colored tile, tainting the image of cleanliness the room had started with before the trio had entered.

Ishimura gave a final glance to Takeru before turning back to Koushirou. The two wounds in this boy's head were far less severe than Takeru's, but Ishimura knelt down on one knee beside him anyway, pressing his index and middle fingers against the artery in Koushirou's neck. A slow, consistent pulse tapped against the fingers, and Ishimura withdrew his hand.

"I always knew you would change the world someday, Koushirou," Ishimura told the unconscious body in front of him. "I just didn't realize you already had."

Slowly, with respect in his countenance and posture, Ishimura rose to his feet. His gaze remained on Koushirou for several seconds longer, and he withdrew the Digivice from his jacket once again. He stared at it for a long moment before reaching out with it towards the computer monitor where the device had originated. The Digivice's screen lit up once again, as well as the computer monitor, and the glow enveloped Ishimura's body. The light lasted for only two seconds, and when it dissolved Ishimura was gone.


	13. Chapter 13: Aftermath

I apologize for this being a week late: real life has been… interesting, lately, among other problems. For reference, "Aftermath" is a chapter title I use in almost every story I write (though it's generally reserved for epilogues).

The next chapter may be delayed as well.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Aftermath**

The light blue pastel paint of the hospital room's walls was dim in the faint light. Koushirou was lying on a bed with wheels, ready to be moved. The desks on both sides of the bed appeared temporary, but they were permanent fixtures of the room. To Koushirou's left, beside the window with the blinds down, the ECG machine reading his vitals steadily beeped with his pulse. It was the only noise in the room.

His head was bandaged, and fresh blood had stained at the back from his wound, but Koushirou was only unconscious. He had been changed into a hospital gown, which was visible at the top of the sheets where his shoulders and head were elevated by the bed. Each silent breath, slow but consistent like his heartbeat, could be seen by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The door to his room opened slowly, letting light from the hospital hallway reach inside. Mimi entered, wearing the same white miniskirt and platform sandals she had worn at the club, but the star clips were absent from her hair, and the pink blouse was different from the one she had worn when Ishimura had visited her. She closed the door quietly behind her, touching it with only her fingertips.

She bit her lip as her amber eyes fell first on Koushirou's unconscious body, but her gaze immediately left it. Her attention landed on a desk beside the door, in the fourth corner of the room, absent of any decoration and evidently intended for flowers and get-well cards. Mimi had no gift in hand, and frowned at the desk as the thought fluttered across her mind.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and steel herself, she glided away from the door, pupils widening in the weaker light of the room. A lamp above Koushirou's bed made his features visible, but Mimi had not returned her gaze to him yet. There was still more than enough light to see by in the rest of the room, though its dimness left a foreboding feeling. The consistent beeping of the ECG continued.

Amber eyes landed on the desk at Koushirou's right. Its lower shelves contained several medical supplies, and on top of it was Koushirou's laptop. In front of the desk was a pair of chairs with matching partners on the opposite side of the bed. Casually, Mimi strolled the remaining distance, sandals making gentle clacks against the tile floor as she did, and she took the chair closest to Koushirou's head on his right side. Here, the lamp illuminated her as well, and her pupils shrunk. Finally, Mimi turned her gaze to Koushirou.

"I got the call on my cell from Sora," Mimi explained in a whisper, forcing herself to look at Koushirou's face. The boy's eyes were closed, and her gaze occasionally drifted to his other features. His face was pale, and the bandage around his forehead caught her eye too often. Sweat beaded his forehead just beneath the bandage, running down his nose in a way that was not so different from tears. Soft, almost childlike cheeks showed his youth, not enhanced with makeup as Mimi's cheeks and features were. Koushirou looked sick. "I don't know who she got it from, but I guess two students found you and Takeru Takaishi unconscious and…" she was unable to say what she had meant to, but squeaked out the word, "hurt."

Koushirou's body gave no reaction to Mimi's voice or words. She placed her hands together in her lap, smoothing her skirt in the process, and her left foot began tapping the floor. Mimi seemed oblivious to her subconscious actions. Her gaze fell to the boy's chest, and she watched it rise and fall with his breathing. Though her expression didn't change, she found the courage to keep speaking.

"Almost everyone's out in the lobby right now," Mimi went on. Her gaze steadily slid back up to Koushirou's face as she spoke. "Taichi and Hikari Yagami, Sora, and your mom. Sora's trying to comfort her right now. She was scared to see you right now, and nearly collapsed when the doctor told her you were all right. I think she's waiting for your dad to get here, or something." Koushirou's face was still blank. "I asked permission to come in and see you first." Again she stopped talking, and a clock on the wall behind her ticked away silently. On every third second the second hand moved in tandem with Koushirou's pulse, but they were not synchronized at any other time.

"This is all about the Digital World, isn't it?" Mimi asked almost beneath her breath. For a long moment she said nothing more, staring at Koushirou's face with as blank an expression as his own. "Sora tried talking to me about it when we hung out on Sunday. At first I didn't remember it, but the whole time something inside me said I should." Weak laughter broke up her words, but her face quickly became sober again. "Sometime during the past couple of years, maybe right after that summer, I started using plants for decoration. Usually cactuses. They were comforting.

"I have dreams, once in a while. Sometimes there's a giant cactus, sometimes it's a woman in pink that can fly, and sometimes it's a little girl with a flower on her head. Then, sometimes, there's destruction." She shuddered at the last, and her hands went to cover the sudden goose bumps that had sprung up on her arms. The ones on her legs were ignored. "I remember Nine Eleven over in the United States. I was there. Not in the towers themselves, but a few blocks away. I should have been in school, but somewhere inside I sensed what was going to happen.

"Not about the towers, but about…" Mimi choked, tears rolling down through light mascara. Shaking her head, she didn't finish what she had been about to say. "The dreams aren't about that, though. Not all of them, anyway. Some of them are about Odaiba, I'm sure of it!" Her voice reflected her certainty, and her eyes flashed with a sudden gleam of purpose that faded just as quickly as it had appeared. "I remember being in Big Sight during the attacks, but I also remember being out in the streets with buildings coming down around me.

"I lied to Sora," Mimi admitted, gritting her teeth and letting her hands fall back down onto her skirt. They went back to work smoothing it, though she had been sitting so still the entire time that it was unruffled. "Maybe if I hadn't then you wouldn't be here right now, and Takeru wouldn't be in the other room with Yamato. He's just sitting there, and he won't let anyone else in. I guess their parents haven't made it here yet."

Tentatively, Mimi's hands stopped running across her skirt, and she reached out and took Koushirou's hand in hers. His body still gave no reaction that he heard or felt her, and the beeping made no change in its beat. Mimi had stopped crying, but wet lines still streaked down her face.

"I didn't think Uragiru Ishimura was the type of person to hurt someone," Mimi pleaded, shaking her head marginally and repeatedly. "He was so insistent about not living up to his name as a betrayer. Why did he choose to do it, Koushirou? You're his best friend. Why did he betray even you?"

Mimi's voice never rose, but her tone became insistent. The water in her eyes threatened to break free again, but she was able to restrain it with constant blinking. She squeezed Koushirou's hand tightly, but it was still limp between hers.

A polite coughing made Mimi look to the door. Jyou, dressed in his blue school uniform, stood in the doorway, light shining around him from the hallway. He stood as tall as most adults, and the dark brown eyes behind his glasses had the strain of undue age. However, when his gaze faltered from Koushirou and took in Mimi, those old eyes went wide with an almost childish surprise. He had not recognized her when he had first opened the door.

"Mimi?" he asked uncertainly, eyebrows lowering cautiously. "I didn't recognize you when I saw you at the club." Shaking his head and the thought, he quickly added, "I know you want to be alone with Koushirou, but I just got here, and-"

"It's fine," she told him, letting Koushirou's hand drop from her grip and flashing a delicate smile to Jyou. "You're in medical school, aren't you? Is there something you can do for him? Or for Takeru?"

Jyou closed the door, shaking his head, and dragged his feet as he moved to stand in front of the bed. "I could look at his chart and make some sense out of it, but I wouldn't be able to tell you much more than you already know." His gaze darted away from Koushirou to the desk with the ECG machine, landing specifically on the clipboard resting there, before returning to Koushirou. "There's nothing I can do that the doctors haven't done already."

"Oh," Mimi replied, eyes falling away from Jyou's. Her hands had settled back in her lap, and she gripped her skirt in frustration. None of the frustration showed on her face, however: only sorrow.

"Koushirou trusted Ishimura so completely," Jyou muttered, lips twisting in contempt. "He was supposed to be there with both of them today, and it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together." The words were spoken to himself, Mimi forgotten even though her eyes had gone back up to Jyou. However, before he could continue the thought, Koushirou began to stir. Jyou's grimace evaporated, and it took Mimi only a moment to turn her attention back to Koushirou.

Beeping became more frequent, breaking its odd synchronicity with the clock, and Koushirou's eyelids pressed closed tightly before opening to slits. A weak smile showed teeth, but faded from exhaustion. Eyes dark enough to match Jyou's in color shifted uneasily between the two figures before settling on the pink-haired girl.

"Mimi?" Koushirou asked cautiously, "And Jyou." The bedridden boy's breathing became audible, nearly labored. Both of the other teenagers nodded in response to their names, and the smile came back to Koushirou's face for a quick instant. "Where are the others?"

"Out in the lobby," Jyou answered. Mimi's tears began to glimmer, even in the weak light, and her smile was pure relief. "Your mom's out there, too. Yamato's in Takeru's room, also here in the hospital."

"Ishimura attacked us," Koushirou explained, eyes dropping to the bed sheets that covered his body. Lumps outlined his torso and legs, and his feet pitched at the foot of the bed. "He figured out how to activate the Digivice."

Mimi's eyes went wide at the revelation, and Jyou's face became stern. "So that's why," Jyou just barely kept back the growl in his voice. "Then we're back to square one: no Digivice and no answers."

Weakly, Koushirou shook his head from side to side. "We know it's real," he protested. A single shake of his head in each direction was all he could manage. At the end of the shake, with his head aimed to his right, his gaze fell on his laptop. His eyes narrowed momentarily, but even that small gesture seemed draining on Koushirou. "The police didn't take my laptop?" Neither Jyou nor Mimi replied, and Koushirou spoke without looking at either of his companions. "Mimi, could you open it up and see if it's still on?"

After giving a small start, Mimi nodded, turning her attention to the laptop, and she carefully opened it. The machine hummed as it came back to life, and the screen lit up where Koushirou had left it, the program returning the diagnostic on the school computer. "What now?" Mimi asked.

Koushirou's eyes gave no reaction at the diagnostic on the screen beside him. It informed him that the school computer had had a power surge during the approximate time he estimated that Takeru had received the Digivice, and it showed unusual readings from the Internet connection, accompanying the power surge. It recommended replacing the network cable.

"There's nothing helpful in the diagnostic I ran," Koushirou explained, turning his head and gaze slowly back to the two others in the room with him. Dark brown eyes locked on similarly colored eyes. "Jyou, I need you to get the others. I have a theory I'd like to test personally, and even if it's wrong I'd still like to be part of the meeting when the group decides what to do about Ishimura."

Jyou gave Koushirou a curt nod as he backed up towards the door. His eyes left Koushirou only once he needed to see the handle, and he gave a quick glance to Mimi, whose attention was on Koushirou, before rushing out into the hall.


	14. Chapter 14: Chosen Children

**Chapter 14: Chosen Children**

An orderly passed through the hospital hallway, sparing only a quick glance at the group of teenagers that were lined in the hall outside Koushirou's room. Taichi, wearing a blue polo shirt and dark brown cargo shorts, stood next to Hikari, who was still wearing the same outfit she had been wearing both at the nightclub and on the first day of school: a sleeveless pink and white blouse with fingerless gloves and tan shorts. Sora was on Taichi's other side, wearing the same too short yellow tank and jeans she had been wearing at the nightclub. Mimi stood on Sora's other side.

"How long do you think it'll be until someone gets mad that we're just standing out here?" Taichi joked, slouching as he leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, but the humor faded from his face as Sora shot a worried glare at him. She was bobbing on the balls of her feet and was currently just short of standing on her tiptoes. Hikari only frowned at her brother's joke. Mimi, silent and standing still, had zoned out while staring at the door to Koushirou's room.

"Mrs. Izumi is worried about him," Sora explained, giving Taichi a stern look that was no longer the glare it had been. Her bob took her back down onto her heels, and the front of her feet went up into the air momentarily.

"We just have to be patient, big brother," Hikari said softly, her frown flashing into a smile aimed at Taichi. Looking past the other two teenagers, she shifted her gaze to Mimi. "Mimi, what exactly did Koushirou say? Jyou was in such a rush that all we could understand was that Koushirou had woken up." It took a moment for Mimi to hear the question, but when she did she turned her head slowly to face the trio, blinking twice.

"What did he say?" Mimi wondered, putting a finger to her lips. "Something about a theory and that he wanted to be part of the meeting. I was surprised he had woken up, so it's kind of hard to remember what exactly he said."

"Mimi hasn't changed a bit," Taichi muttered dryly, earning another quick glare from Sora. This time his grin didn't fade.

The quiet jiggle of the door handle drew the group's attention back to the room. Nothing was visible through the window except for the weak light that lined each slat of the blinds. Mrs. Izumi emerged from the room, wearing the same green blouse and lavender skirt that she had been wearing at her apartment the day before. Evidently she had come to the hospital without doing more than discarding her apron.

"Koushirou told me that he wants a chance to speak with all of you," she told the group, and a perplexed expression flickered across her face. It was replaced with a kind look as she gave them a polite bow. "I appreciate all of you being here for him." The four teenagers gave appropriate nods and murmured respectfully about Koushirou being a friend. They waited only long enough for her to take two steps away from the door before piling into the room, leaving the door open once they were inside.

Koushirou smiled at the four as they entered. Mimi reclaimed her seat beside Koushirou and his laptop, and Sora sat down beside her. Hikari took the corner opposite Mimi, and Taichi remained standing next to the open chair. He leaned sideways against the middle of the windowsill, but he was no longer slouching.

"How are you feeling, Koushirou?" Sora asked, leaning towards him over the bed. Koushirou's face was still pale, but the shrug he gave had more strength in it than he had shown when he had first woken up. The bandage around his forehead had been replaced with a fresh one.

"They've got me on some mild painkillers, but my headache is the least of our problems," he answered, dismissing the pain with a gesture of his hand.

"If Koushirou's going to be fine, then we need to concentrate on what happened," Taichi agreed before any of the others could speak, nodding as he folded his arms over his chest. "So what did happen, Koushirou?"

"I'd like to know what happened, too," Yamato added as he came in through the door. His school uniform was wrinkled, showing wear similar to the exhaustion on his face. Jyou followed immediately behind Yamato, closing the door once he was inside, and he gave only a quick glance between Taichi and Yamato as he went to take the seat between Hikari and Taichi. His blue uniform wasn't crisp, but it still looked passably fresh. Yamato settled for the spot opposite Taichi, standing next to Sora's chair. However, Yamato possessed none of Taichi's apparent ease. "Was Ishimura the one that attacked Takeru?" Despite the calm in his voice, his fists were clenched at his sides, and his back was rigid with anxiety.

"He must have been," Koushirou answered reluctantly, sitting upright. His dark brown eyes took in each of the others one by one, starting to his right with Mimi before shifting to Sora, Yamato, Taichi, Jyou, and Hikari, each in turn. "The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was hearing Takeru's voice, and I know Takeru wouldn't have attacked me." Everyone wore expressions of pity except for Taichi and Yamato. Taichi's disgust with Ishimura was firm in his grimace while Yamato's eyes became the lighter blue of ice rather than their natural blue of water.

"That doesn't make any sense," Sora cut in. "You're Ishimura's best friend: why would he attack you?"

"Uragiru Ishimura decided to live up to his name," Yamato sneered, fists now pocketed in his blazer. "We all know that uragiru is the word for betray. Besides, people like Ishimura only care about three things." Deliberately, Yamato withdrew his right hand from his jacket and counted to three. Unclenching his muscles required visible concentration. "Money, women, and power. He already has money because his father was one of the contractors that profited from the attacks three years ago." There was a slight pause, and Jyou appeared ready to speak, but Yamato went on before he could. "He doesn't have a girlfriend, and when we had our meeting at the nightclub he let a comment slip to all of you about the 'original arrangement' he and I had made. Our deal was for me or one of my other band members to toss him an eager fangirl." There was only the briefest pause before Yamato finished. "He disregarded that at the chance for power." Blue eyes focused on Koushirou, who slowly nodded in agreement.

"Ishimura must have discovered how to activate the Digivice," Koushirou picked up where Yamato left off. "That's the second step, however, and I think I've solved the first. I think I've discovered the key to regaining our Digivices." Every eye bulged around him except for Taichi's brown and Yamato's blue, but Koushirou held up his hands in a gesture of patience. "This is only speculation at this point," he explained, turning to his laptop. Running his fingers across the track pad reawakened it from sleep, and he clicked on the wireless connection.

After a few moments Koushirou's laptop connected to the Internet, and the monitor glowed with the same brilliant light as it had in the computer lab a day prior. For several seconds a white brightness exceeding the light of the hallway filled the room, blinding the teenagers from seeing anything else. Once it faded, six spheres of light floated through the air, each separately to the six teenagers, and a soft hum accompanied the event. Koushirou's, Hikari's, Mimi's, and Taichi's Digivices were all active as they settled into their palms, counting the time in synchronicity with the clock in the room and the one on the laptop, but Sora's, Jyou's, and Yamato's were blank.

"Prodigious!" Koushirou exclaimed, beaming with an excitement that mirrored that of the other five. Hikari's gaze was on all of the others, while Mimi, Jyou, and Sora all seemed stunned by the event. Taichi's face took on a look of determination that reflected Yamato's, but the blonde's held a dangerous look. As the astonishment of receiving their Digivices faded, Koushirou spoke. "Takeru came into contact with all seven of us during the past few days. Ironically, Ishimura did as well. That was the key to regaining our Digivices." Seeming to realize for the first time that his Digivice was active, Koushirou quickly asked, "Is everyone else's Digivice working, or is it just mine?"

"Mine's not working," Sora murmured, and a moment later Jyou added, "Mine, either." Yamato's sudden growl gave his answer. Mimi held hers up for Koushirou to see, as did Hikari, and Taichi gave a thumbs up.

"Most peculiar." Koushirou frowned. "For some reason Takeru's didn't activate until Ishimura obtained it, and now Sora's, Jyou's, and Yamato's won't activate, either. There must be another requirement."

"Our crests!" Hikari almost shouted, looking around at the group. She was breathless as she explained her reasoning. "Everyone whose Digivice activated still has their crest as their strongest trait." The revelation seemed to do nothing to cheer the moods of the three whose Digivices had not activated, and Sora's gaze dropped to her lap.

"So Takeru doesn't have hope," Koushirou whispered, biting his lip before wondering, "but does that mean Ishimura had hope, or does he have a trait of his own?"

"It's more likely that Ishimura has his own trait," Hikari replied. Koushirou frowned at Hikari's suggestion, eyebrows lowering as he closed his eyes to concentrate. "You're worried about what that says about Ishimura, aren't you?" The small shake of the head Koushirou gave in reply made Hikari frown as well, and she tilted her head.

Neither Koushirou nor Hikari had time to consider the possibilities further. Yamato had taken a step from his spot by the wall, and Taichi barely had time to look up before Yamato snatched the Digivice out of his hand. Its screen went blank a second later, and Yamato glared down at it in frustration.

"Watch it, Ishida!" Taichi snapped, grabbing the Digivice back just as Yamato's grip on it loosened. Rather than glare in return, however, tears broke free from Yamato's eyes. His face became red, but the only other sign of his distress was that he was breathing through clenched teeth. Taichi blinked in surprise. "Why are you-"

"He thought that taking a working Digivice would let him pursue Ishimura," Sora explained on top of Taichi's question. As she spoke she got back to her feet, slipped her Digivice around a belt loop, and put a hand on Yamato's shoulder. The blonde shrugged it off, and Sora let her hand fall back to her side. Her hazel eyes slid to Taichi, filling with regret, and they spun only far enough to turn the apologetic look to Jyou and Hikari. The look was not intended for them, however, and it fell to Koushirou's legs, outlined by the bed sheets. Sora took a couple of steps backwards and fell abruptly onto her chair, but she ignored the weak pain that surged into her.

"So what does this mean?" Jyou asked, dark brown eyes darting between Yamato and Sora. "Yamato doesn't feel friendship, Sora doesn't feel love, and I'm not reliable?"

"Those traits are still there," Hikari answered, amber eyes lifting to look at Yamato, rather than Jyou, as she spoke. "Yamato, don't you remember that all of us were your friends three years ago?" His blue eyes refused to look at her, still red and wet with tears, but Hikari's gaze was intent on him. "Try to remember the friendship you felt with each of us. You were more concerned with the safety of the group than anyone else."

Hesitantly, Yamato lifted his eyes to look at the others, starting with Taichi. "I… I think I respected Yagami." His gaze lowered to Jyou, and Yamato swallowed. "With Jyou, it's like there's a memory I just can't reach. Without it, I don't remember him very much, but I think I owe him for something. I also think," he continued, shifting his gaze to Hikari, "that I failed to protect you. I don't remember anything about Koushirou or Mimi, though. " Yamato's gaze finally landed on Sora. "I'm too annoyed with Sora to feel friendship for her. Maybe she's been trying to be a friend to me, but I can't feel friendship for her." Yamato's arm was shaking, tightly clenching the inactive Digivice. "It's useless! I'll never be able to follow Ishimura into the Digital World!"

"Then I will," Taichi announced solemnly. Yamato responded by grabbing the brunette's collar with his free hand.

"Ishimura's mine!" Yamato shouted as Taichi grabbed his hand, trying to pull it free of the collar. "If anyone's going after him it's going to be me!"

"Stop it!" Hikari shouted, jumping to her feet. Her next words were calm, and though Yamato still held a fistful of Taichi's collar, both of them had stopped struggling and were looking at the girl. "Yamato, can you trust Taichi to find Ishimura?"

"It's not a matter of trust," Yamato countered. "I'm the one that's going to hunt down Ishimura."

"Yamato, can you trust Taichi to bring Ishimura to you?" Hikari repeated patiently.

"No, I can't trust him," Yamato replied, letting go of Taichi's collar. The brunette gave a small snort, letting go of the blonde's wrist, but Yamato ignored the snort.

"Yamato, can you trust the friendship Takeru had with the rest of us?" Hikari asked almost silently. "Do you consider Takeru to be your friend?"

Sobs shook Yamato's body, forcing him to step back towards the door and put a hand out to the windowsill to steady himself. His tears flowed freely, and he stared at the blinds pushed against the window by his hand. "I," he whispered, choking as he spoke. "I tried to be a friend to Takeru." As a tear dropped from his chin, it landed on the Digivice cupped in his palm, and a small hum joined with its sudden glow. Yamato stared down at the device in surprise, watching as the seconds began counting, and he smiled in disbelief before turning that smile to Hikari.

"Yamato," Hikari asked gently, "will you be part of the team again?" The blonde's gaze dropped from her, filled with sudden uncertainty.

"I won't accept Ishida as part of the team unless he starts acting like part of the team," Taichi cut in, glaring openly at Yamato. "He's entirely focused on getting revenge against Ishimura, and now that his Digivice is working that's exactly what he'll do, regardless of anything else." Sora shot a look at Taichi, but her expression was almost unreadable. Unlike each time before, there was no sign of anger or annoyance.

After a long moment, Yamato spoke. "Hikari, a week ago when Taichi approached me about the meeting, I insulted you. I wanted him to leave me alone because I didn't believe in any of this." His grip on his Digivice tightened, and the seconds continued counting by on the screen. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Hikari replied with a smile, and her attention turned to Taichi, whose expression was less forgiving. "Isn't that right, Taichi?"

"Is that your way of asking to join the team, Ishida?" Taichi asked pointedly. Hikari's eyelids lowered in mild annoyance, but Sora's look became open disapproval. "You're forgiven, Ishida, but remember that I care about my sister just as much as you care about your brother."

"Can we leave now?" Yamato inquired, changing the subject without giving an adequate response to Taichi's warning. Blue eyes, tinged red outside the irises, made a sweeping glance over the group members that had been silent. Mimi shook her head where she sat, not looking up from her Digivice.

"I'm not going," she told them, drawing every eye. Jyou gave a small nod, unnoticed by the others. "Ishimura already hurt Koushirou and Takeru. If we go then he'll just hurt us, too."

"We have to go," Hikari spoke softly as if her words weren't in response to Mimi's. "There are Digimon there—our old friends are there—and if Ishimura was willing to attack Koushirou then he won't think twice about hurting them." Mimi's face contorted with a grimace at the declaration, but she neither looked up nor shed a tear.

"Old friends we don't remember," Jyou muttered bitterly. "And not all of us could go even if we wanted to."

"It would be pointless to take anyone without an active Digivice," Koushirou commented. Mimi and Jyou were visible in his peripheral vision, but Koushirou managed to avoid looking at either of them directly. "And anyone that doesn't want to go," he added after a moment.

"Your Digivices will activate someday," Hikari told them soothingly, glancing at Jyou and Sora. Her eyes stopped on the latter. "Sora, do you really love Yamato? Are you even worried about him going to the Digital World?"

"Of course I'm worried about him," Sora replied defensively, leaning forward in her chair. "But." She bit her lip for a moment, before glancing up to Taichi. "But I can't do anything for him right now." Her words were spoken slowly, and after a moment the brunette gave the slightest inclination of his head in response. "However, I don't think I'm very worried about the rest of you." With those words spoken, Sora held her gaze on Taichi for one last moment before letting her head fall forward.

"Sora, could you look after Takeru for me?" Yamato asked, taking a small step towards the girl. She nodded quickly, eyes still lowered to her jeans. "And tell Dad that I'm going after Takeru's assailant." Sora quickly gave a second nod.

"Jyou?" Hikari leaned towards the tall boy sitting next to her. "Your trait's different from the rest of ours: your reliability requires action. We'd appreciate it if you'd stay here and take care of everyone until your Digivice activates." Jyou blinked at Hikari, smiling weakly. "And when Takeru wakes up, tell him that I know he can find hope."

"I'll do that," Jyou promised. A faint light glimmered in his eyes.

"Are we all ready, then?" Taichi asked Hikari, tapping the fingers of his left hand against his right forearm impatiently. Hikari shook her head, standing up and sliding between Jyou's knees and the bed to stand in front of her older brother.

"Just one last thing," Hikari told him, smiling as her faced beamed. She reached for a small bulge in her back pocket, and she withdrew a pair of round goggles and a blue headband, which she held out to Taichi. "The group's back together again, but you can't be the leader without these."

Taichi blinked down at the goggles in surprise, setting his Digivice on the windowsill as he took the goggles and headband into his hands. He put them on one at a time, first putting the headband around his forehead, propping up his hair with it in the process, and then he slipped the goggles around the headband. Despite the weak lighting of the room, the goggles reflected the light easily, almost shining as they did.

Koushirou turned his laptop to face Taichi and Hikari, and Yamato took a step towards the duo to join them. "Just hold your Digivices up to the monitor," Koushirou instructed. "They should take care of the rest. Be careful, and good luck."

One by one, first Taichi, then Yamato, and finally Hikari lifted their Digivices to the laptop. Both the laptop and the Digivices' screens glowed simultaneously, and the light from each source blended together before engulfing the trio completely. In moments the light dissolved, taking Taichi, Yamato, and Hikari with it. The other four were left staring at the place where the trio had stood a second before, and silence filled the room.

* * *

Thus concludes "Reformat, Part 1: Illusory Memories." For anyone that's forgotten, I stated before the first chapter that this would be a trilogy. I've been tossing around the "Reformat" title for a while now, and the connotations that word has should be enough to give you all something to speculate about.

It should be noted that "Illusory Memories" was inspired by Princess-of-Fantasy's fanfic "Fear of Falling." (I'll warn in advance: it has mature content, and it isn't really worth reading anyway. You've been warned.) I liked the idea of Mimi moving back to Odaiba years later after the chosen children had taken their different ways, and this idea evolved into the "Illusory Memories" concept.

At this time, I have no plans to begin work on Part 2. I'm exhausted from writing this, and I found it extremely difficult to write these last two chapters. More on my current plans can be found in my profile.

In conclusion, I'd like to thank those that helped me along the way (they know who they are) as well as my reviewers. It's been amazing having such a large audience. I hope you all enjoyed "Illusory Memories." (Be sure to leave a final review.)


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